The Heart of the Matter

When your heart's in your throat
There's not much to do
But choke it up, let it out,
Spread it everywhere,
All over the highway.
Then maybe you can put it in order,
Shine a light in the cracks,
Pull out the hidden things
That even you didn't know were there.
But there's not much time for this;
Your to do list is two columns long
And every time you cross something out
Two more lines get added,
So you scoop up your heart off the pavement,
Shove it back in your messenger bag,
Then when you get a chance
You can swallow it again
But it'll stick jumbled up in your throat.
It's not how it should be;
The pieces aren't fitting;
There's a piece of the puzzle
That's insistently missing
And it worries your insides
Along with the gravel that came
Up off the road with the rest.