scribbles
words of wisdom, notes of thoughts. those of anger, those of naught… caressed my days of sloth and mourn, came slandering, sliding right through me, aching like feelings knocking backdoors. still i am here. forgotten, forlorn. like a heart, repeatedly falling out and down. bound to be kicked by feet, to be trembled upon. but one day it will jump way back in as if i’d never missed or kicked it. staying sometime there in place, not aching, not shaking, just beating away shyly, and bumping conscientiously the beat a heart beats.