day two hundred eight: flies in ointment.

words
little words
little notes
in big songs
little voices
inside the mind
singing dread
and negativity
sweep your
sweet hurt over me
i give
i gave
i try
i trade
these things i have
(by no means am i perfect)
i give them to people
and they take
take take
take take
will someone
give something to me?
or even let me take
take take?

day two-hundred seven: speak to me.

speak
words
i want to communicate
to the one person
who will have nothing to do
with me
why?
because i broke his heart.

day two-hundred six: am i alive?

i'm conscious
i'm breathing
my heart bleeds
lungs receiving
all works in tempo
all works the same
a broken heart
means i'm alive.