the process

You sit heavy upon my chest tonight,
forcing hand to uptake pen
in effort,
in vain attempt,
to quantify
to clarify,
deep seated swelling emotion.
With logic, thought ,
reason,
modus tollens; modus ponens,
no negation,
no logical assertions eludicated,
therefore you remain
defiant ,
insistent upon not being eradicated.
And of what is your form?
Why so deep?
Why so forlorn?