My eyelids are so heavy, they creep down past my pupil--turning the blue of my iris into an eerie half-moon. Perhaps if I let my lashes crash together in slumber, I'll dream of something beautiful.

But my heart is heavier, and it has nowhere to fall--unless it sinks down to ocean of my weary traveler's feet. Perhaps the harsh pounding as I run away from my problems will cause the shriveled, broken thing to beat again.