The Heart

 

To Pieces

Soaked by the falling rain
The bottom of a shoe
Always in my face

The live body
The prison cell
Each heartbeat marks
The bars of hell

Release this fury –trace with knife
Along my throat, along my thigh
Those precious blood ways I outline
Tomorrow at the back of mind

Pull my arms and legs apart,
Peel away my veins
Nowhere am I beautiful
My bruised dead face

I dream the open window
My several stories high
I’ve opened everything up
I’ve eaten all my insides

I’m licking at each bone
I bite to pieces,
Here alone

I really don’t have much to say anymore about my life. I don’t see past a year from now. This doesn’t change. I think I’m going to give up looking for a job right now as I don’t even understand how I’m able to function during the day. There’s nothing keeping me together and to be honest I’m having brief moments where I’m all about the details in how to get rid of myself, they’re getting into my dreams again. Things are just so messed up. I should be seeing the good I’ve been given and try to make something of myself, but I can’t get past just not being able to care, just not wanting to be here in the first place. And I feel I’d be doing everyone a favor if I killed myself–sooner rather than later.

But you know already. It’s my same tired story

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Filed under Art, poems

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