In my hand I hold a heavy heart
The fibres of muscle just beginning to split apart
But the drying blood and flesh is just the start
Of a twisted story that coils to art
Cuspids split by Cupid's arrow
Blackened bones cracked open to weep melting marrow
Love pumping from widening cracks
To fill the space where blood lacks
Atrium open in greeting, adoration adorned
Bitterness burned because it's bearer was scorned
Absence of passion isn't met with fury but mourned
Love seeping viscously from veins that protrude
Lashing like whips to find addiction's food
Twisting like coiling rope that binds innocence
From ventricles that harbour vicious dissents
Reaching with vernacular voices to ensure
That the gnarled love of a decomposing heart endures
***
A fairly short one for today folks, but at least I got it out!
I thought for I while that I wouldn't make it.
Have a fantastic day.
Alex xxx
YOU ARE READING
Under My Sofa
PoetryWhen I was little I wrote in the space under my sofa. Now I write on top of it. That's not poetic. I'm just too big to fit underneath anymore.
