Aesthetic Writings

Stubborn Heart

Walking on this small road
Taking it aimlessly.
Wandering
Floating
  Space walking.
Who knows where I'll end up?
The store?
The road?
  Next town over?

        Dead?

But I think I'm already dead.

I'm already gone.

I'm gone and I can't be revived.
I've disappeared.
Became a ghost.
Never to be seen again.

And sometimes, I wish that were true for my heart too.
My eyes are empty, showing nothing to any soul.
But my heart remains intact.

It causes a lot of pain, that organ.
It makes me dream of things out of reach.
Family.
Peace.
  Happiness.
It causes my face to break its shell and cry.
It catches on fire and burns me from the inside.

And sometimes, I wish my heart could take a walk too. And never come back.