WHY is the Question of a Broken Heart

Reading time: 2 – 3 minutes

Some days, even with my seeming unlimited resource of optimism, my ability to grasp the most painful of circumstances from a higher perspective, and my playful embrace of disappointment as a comical blunder of something tumbling from my hands, I still have my days when I ask the rhetorical and universal question:


Some days just… hurt.

Like someone in a heavy boot standing on your neck with a permanent pressure.

I’m sure I just feel this way because of my broken heart.
Kinda down today… that’s all.

Baby steps…


If you be my star
I’ll be your sky
you can hide underneath me and come out at night
when I turn jet black and you show off your light
I live to let you shine
I live to let you shine

but you can skyrocket away from me
and never come back if you find another galaxy
far from here with more room to fly
just leave me your stardust to remember you by

if you be my boat
I’ll be your sea
a depth of pure blue just to probe curiosity
ebbing and flowing and pushed by a breeze
I live to make you free
I live to make you free

but you can set sail to the west if you want to
and past the horizon till I can’t even see you
far from here where the beaches are wide
just leave me your wake to remember you by

– Gregory and the Hawk
(listen here)

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