emo in iambic pentameter

I take my broken heart out for a drive

just cruising through the city as it rains

and we don’t even try to talk because

between us there are no real words to say

I take my broken heart out for a walk

just winding through the park and through the rain

the droplets beat a rhythm fast and low

a rhythm that my dear heart can’t sustain

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A how to guide

This past week has been …. wretched. I am not going to go into details because I do not feel like exposing the sources of my grief to the harsh, abrasive world. Stay here, stay soft. But soft, what light … etc. And yet life moves on. Life moves on and I have to keep working because deadlines don’t budge and financial needs still exist, always. Just keep fucking writing and don’t feel your soul too much. Provide with the keys on your keyboard. Give your car keys to a mechanic, because your car is not so much leaking oil as it is gushing oil. Try to keep a positive face, push forward, run your hands over and over the fragility of everything you are and have. Make plans, but hold them gently in your palm and don’t try to close your fingers over them. I need surrender the way the desert needs rain during fire season.