I must tell my story
There is something on my mind
A clot in my heart I must clear
It happened yesterday
Its impact on me was intense
I'm afraid recovery will take a while
I am telling you my story.
Can you listen to me?
But you answer my question
You advise and analyze,
“Life's not that bad. If there's a will there's a way.”
But I don’t hear you
I’m a heart, not a brain
Don’t give me advice
Don’t tell me it’s false
I can’t understand
I am trying to tell you my story.
Please listen to me.
Change of pace
You encourage and console me instead,
“Oh, you’ll be fine, I’m sure you’ll pull through.”
But I don’t hear you
It is now, not later
Console me then
When I have conquered my grief
I did not tell you my story.
Why can’t you listen to me?
---
I must tell my story
There is something on my mind
And the clot in my heart is still there
What can you do to soften my pain?
Listen. Please, just listen to me.
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5 comments:
Here's how I would've ended it:
What can you do to soften my pain?
Listen. Please, just listen to me.
For crying out loud!
Only heads have ears, not hearts. Only heads have mouths, not hearts.
You can speak heart to heart, but only to and from an understanding heart, one which uses its head and that which is above it.
You want a listening heart, talk. Otherwise, don't complain.
I must preface the power of emotions and the necessity of a healthy heart, though this point is not lost on you, no doubt.
In my estimation, a healthy heart is able to communicate properly without interference of the mind.
Although by now you probably have a moderate understanding of my position.
can you please speak in a language known to amot ha'aratzot.
Hey. I'm not one to complain, but there hasn't been a new post up here in a while. Just wondering if you lost your computer or something.
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