While endeavoring greatly to do nothing, my heart endeavors strongly to be heard. All those tears and shiver-making thoughts that I’ve captured and boxed and stored in places I no longer remember, come pounding back at once and I become small, like a 
seed 
at the bottom of the universe.  These feelings are all lost, gangly teenagers who don’t know how to express themselves, hoping to be strung somehow, like 
pearls – which 
I would be happy to do if I were big enough. Perhaps there’s some warm soil for my seed from
underneath a galaxy.