I'm a collector of hearts stored in jars
Therapy helps me heal my scars
Hurt runs deep as memories long
Sirens singing an enchanting song
Each one left a scar so deep
Now their hearts I choose to keep
Sirens still sing but I'm deaf to the tune
I'll add their hearts some time soon
As my collection slowly grows
I'm the curator nobody knows
Once I was weak to their feminine charms
Now they die in my murderous arms
Fading eyes as their breath expires
More jars needed for hearts acquired
No more pain can they cause for me
Tides have turned as I continue my spree
With vengeful force my therapy continues
Debuting my skills at many new venues
Sirens songs fade over time
Eventually all hearts in jars will be mine
Poems from a darkened heart
© AS May 2021
