Friday, May 14, 2010

My Heart

I hear my heart beating
and I wonder "why"?
I also wonder 'how'?

The poor thing has been so broken so many times it's full of scar tissue.
Yet it throbs rhythmically as if nothing happened, as if it didn't have to survive you.

Maybe it has no memory and once the pain has passed it just continues to thrum.
Or it could just be keeping up always cleaning your front room
in case a visitor shows up, you don't want the front room to be trashed.
In case you see a doctor or someone who would notice a silence in your chest.

But HOW, with all the pain..the real physical pain I endure on a never-ending certainly has to strain the organ like my brain helps me make the correct faces.

I sometimes wonder if these organs are NOT our friends.
If without them we'd have come to a much more dignified end.

And yet it keeps pumping and wordlessly encourages
it pisses me off sometimes that's it's so insistent
so unphased by the ravages.

So tonight, here we sit, my heart and I
I say 'I'm tired' it won't even say 'goodbye'
Instead it's more "no, you're not...I have a secret"
But it never shares it's surprise...just makes me wait for it.

My heart doesn't falter and it never takes a break
Maybe it's another source that encourages it, for heaven's sake!
You'd think it could share some of that constant enthusiasm with me.
You'd think I'd be smart enough to know that what it does for me.

My heart won't win any it's future there's no special acclaim
It's one job, it's purpose, is me. It has no room or time for blame.
It just thrums happily along setting the example I should follow.
Hell, it's midnight, maybe I'll feel better tomorrow.