I grab my pencil
everyday

Shaky hands
bring down the lead tip
barely touching the paper
in anticipation
of inspiration

Bombs explode outside  
clouding the sky

I call my muses
to work
but
they fail to clock in
because
the road between
the heart and the mind
has been
bombed

I can't keep my
mind shut
and my heart
quiet
for the key
to locking them
got lost
the day
I learned
that,
"all is fair in love
and war."

When a heart
forgets
how to heart

A mind how
to
mind

A logic
how to
logic

A human
how to
align with
all the above

I caught my breath
chasing after another

I put my hand on my chest
to tame a raging heart

"Calm down ******"
I said

"But I'm falling"
it replied

They drop
traumas
like
r
r                                         i
                                           i

                                                              ­                        n
                                       ­                                                n
                                a
                             ­    a

Why does my mind
race
without running shoes
to exhaust the
thought of
over-thinking?

Maybe my poems
have fallen on deaf ears
to a point
where
they lost
their
voice