Heartsick Poem by Cheryl Cheng

I'm heartsick,
Yet I don't know why.
Is it the rain, constantly pouring,
Or is it someone special?
Is it the ache for home,
Or is it someone secret?

To be heartsick,
Is a painful experience.
Your heart is pressured,
Squeezed by invisible hands,
Yet your brain ignores.
And your breaths are short.

I am heartsick,
But for whom?
Do I miss my mother,
Or do I yearn for a love?
Is it me at all? Is it my heart?
Am I beyond repair?

Heartsick: my heart is ill.
Yet no medicine can cure it.
Only to yearned can.
Will I obtain it?
Or will my heart move on,
And slowly return to health?

My heart is sick.
My tears run down.
My throat lumps up.
My hands clutch at my chest.
My mouth shapes words.
My heart throbs in pain.

Will heartsickness ever move on?