"Poetry and hums aren't things which you get, they're things which get you. All you can do is go where they can find you" – A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh
Let me fall freely – breaking at the bottom.
Leave me in my own darkness that I might be lost in it.
Because now I am breaking,
This heart of mine is stained like a smokers lungs –
Filled up with black sticky tar.
It suffocates me so I can take only shallow breaths.
Perpetually, bi-annually, regularly, purposefully
You come back to me as if there was never distance.
Frustrate my thoughts and cut them out
Make a scrapbook of my feelings because then,
You can keep them to yourself and own this little part of me.