The Melancholy of a Buried Heart Jewelry
“My heart is yours to fill or burst, to break or bury, or wear as jewelry.” A lonely walk in.
A gentle passing thought. A calm sort of melancholy. The spring rain – hopes come across passing memories. Specters of failed dreams.
Parts of self I shed. Then come the howling screams. Life is not easy. Endure haunted past. Unsure of energy.
This aching will become buried in the heart of the earth.