My Heart's Voice

Perhaps I don't listen -
Or I don't understand,
How it whispers quietly,
About how to deal my hand,
I barely hear it, if at all,
To be honest,
It seems so very small,
A little beating thing,
Inside my hollow chest,
Not like it can sing,
Its more likely to arrest,
A bit silly, I admit,
A loose wire to my head -
This heart doesn't connect,
So much seems unsaid,
Perhaps I'm just deaf,
And even though I'm listening,
It's a vacant stare,
Like it's just ...missing
In a wandering, forgotten lair.
I heard my heart once -
And I truly started to live,
It woke up to shout and scream,
"Stop being such a div!"
But that was an emergency,
So perhaps my heart's just lazy,
Lost it's voice,
Dampened by other things,
Like the singing of my liver,
And the creaking of my springs,
I can't think of many explanations,
Maybe she's just shy,
And sitting there alone,
Just wondering why?