Somethings

There is something

To be said

For that unnamed fear

An uncomfortable tugging

At an unimaginable part

On the underside of

What they call the heart

And something more

To be said

For when it is teased

Out of its place

To assume

A monstrous proportion

It blackens

Casts a shadow

And leaves you with

A perpetual drone

Stirring somewhere inside

It becomes

Your incompleteness.

And no intelligent verse

Or sugar saturated word

Can help you coat it

In vain, to try and seal it

Like that root

Growing around a stone

Until a handcrafted ped

Dislodges it

Dislodged now

It reveals

A rough healing

But the sun

Warms with its shining