Heart of the BrokenWhenever I fall asleep
I feel my blood just racing faster
Creeping up to find a lover
To devour in pain and laughter
It's a terrible love to be
A painful love to see
But surely it's not
It's a hobby to be
It's a habit of greed
Maybe it's not his fault
He loves him softly just to find a lie
But he stabs his eyes
To stop himself to cry
To wreak a soggy majesty
Upon a murderer in the sympathy
It's an experiment
A love is just a testing
But do you think upon
His past before you flee?
It's a serving winch
But it's a saw to be in half of thee
To die and flatter the stench
GoneSometimes when I'm alone
I can feel you touching my hand
I can feel you grasp my arms and rub the wounds
Whenever I've hurt myself
I can feel you rubbing my side whenever I cut
You whisper in my ear and tell me
"it will all be okay, I promise."
I can feel you holding me
Rocking me back and forth in your arms
Just continuously rocking
I can doze off and dream you're holding me
But I wake up to find just a picture
Even now, I can accept that you're gone
It gets harder every day living without you
I feel like I see you sometimes
Only when I close my eyes, though
I see you there and I want to come and hug you
But every step I take, you get farther away
You drift off, or disappear into the wind
And I cry for you
I scream and shout until my lungs are sore
Because I want you home
I want you to hold me
I want you to be my daddy for once
But I know if I reached out
I'd just fall through.
A congregation convenes to
confront a cold corpse's casket.
Bringing before it tears, emotions,
memories, and trembling limbs.
Not a single word is mustered,
yet a realm of regret clouds the scene.
Tears graze the soil that will become
an eternal resting place six feet under.
Naïve mortals mourn the hollow flesh,
ignoring the omnipresence of the dead.
An icy breeze turns vertebrae into glaciers,
chilling any soul whose eyes encounter the casket.
Words would only interrupt the ceremony.
Tears only salt the earth, which awaits flesh.
We must cherish the memories nearest our hearts,
lest the casket, the corpse, and all else be forgotten.