bind this heart

I can't search for the meaning in all things.
Sometimes horrible things happen
and you can never satisfy yourself with a how or a why.
You know you'll not be the same from it
you can never love yourself the way that you did before.
You know that you can never love life;
the sweetness of a poem,
the ache of song,
the way you did before.
Somehow, those things were taken in the night.
I cannot honestly say that I am looking towards tomorrow
or for some deeper cosmic force
that will bind this heart
to an answer...
or a truth
that will satisfy my soul.
I am not.
I am still operating breath to breath
heartbeat to next.
My eyes shifty
looking over my shoulder--
but I had a dream last night that was not about it
or about him
or my own pain.
If that is hope,
then I am hopeful.