i’m waiting for my heart to break
because i know it will soon

soon i will lose it to an unsuspecting someone
who will unknowingly carry it in his jacket pocket
and i won't be able to do anything but watch from afar as it's poked and prodded and cracked and tossed in a washing machine

and what should i do?
what if it was you?
what if i told you,
"my heart... you have it."
what if i asked you to
"be careful, please..."
would you comply?

would you give me yours in return and let me hold your hand?
or would you try to give mine back, wrapped in mumbled apologies?
or would you toss it away, and leave it to slide into a street sewer with the muddy rain?

what if i didn't tell you?
what if i said,
"be careful, please..."
whispered it from afar, and let my heart get bumped and bruised by your oblivious hand, the one i want to hold?

i’m waiting for my heart to break
because i know it will soon,
but how?

"I am all pieces that don't fit
But with you
I don't realize it."*

That's all I have ever wanted to be able to say



And meant

They built beautiful buildings
and buried their dead in an abbey
that even bombs graced as they
exploded where the grass now grows

But the land is as old as where you stand
And what pain they felt is now a mystery
Do you hear the voices of the graves,
Or the glory of a shadow that stains their history?

Our own people
They live as do underground worms
Only a mile away
Past lights that confuses stops and turns

The poor, forgotten, live alone
They are not exotic enough for us to care
We know them all to well
There is no ancient writing to draw us near

Instead they live on cracked pavement
On ground that will be holy a century from now
Because then the history of our descendants will matter
But today we smile while they wipe their sweaty brow

It is not their beauty that matters
But instead the contemplation of a thousand dreams that never came true
And while you stand next to a mountain or a cathedral
They ask in a language you do not understand
What does it have to do with you?