My Heart

My heart is screaming…no screaming is not the word. Screaming implies passion, furiosity, determination. Screaming implies the motivation to change. My heart is sighing. My heart is the quiet desperate plea of a woman in a crowd where no one is listening. Unwilling to make more noise, yet still hoping that someone else will make the effort to hear me.

My heart is sighing out for an echo. For another presence to reflect the sound back, to change the endless question to an answer. To “I Am Here”.

The sigh rolls out, unwavering and unstopping, occasionally washing against others like seawater, but like seawater, continuingly unfathomably onward.

How long will it have to travel until it reaches a reflection? How long will it take? By the time the reverberations reach me, will I still be able to hear them?

Or will I be busy in a crowd, deaf to the quiet sighs beside me?

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