sometimes I feel that my heart is so full of weakness, as though it were a droplet suspended in my body by a diaphanous string suddenly set ablaze. a rant, a war, a comma, a whisper, awakened. sweat-escapes and riverbanks flow with censored content conceiving warm colours and a burst of siren lights. exposed. it, i, quiver. this fragility is bleak--an open space with lonely railroad tracks, cool eyes and no music. the heart is burning alive.
i replace my heart with a moon or a suitcase at the door.
it is only a feeling , but this feeling is oh so exhausting.