Tired Heart

They call
the sound
heartbeat.

I think
I know
just why:

Battered
by time,
by age,

choices,
both bad
and worse.

It fights,
clenches
a fist

against
my ribs,
railing

against
the walls
of me,

so worn,

so tired

from all
of this.

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

0 Responses to Tired Heart

  1. Trent Lewin says:

    But you will persevere. Because you have to. You just do.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.