Poetry

A TIRED HEART

A tired heart is not dead,
It’s eyes are bloodshot from too much alcohol.
It is quick to judge so it has to be fed.
A tired heart won’t love anymore but still answers the call.

A tired heart still works
it is rusty from the stab wounds but it will heal
it mislead both heads and make them dorks.
It is not open to love but can strike a deal.
A tired heart cannot sleep
it swears this mistake is for the last time.
It cannot travel long but can go on a short trip.
It swears it won’t commit, how is that a crime?
A tired heart looks like me
indecisive, weak, reluctant and still red.
It will grow one day, it will be free.
It will fall in love to recover the blood it has bled.
1/15/17
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