Heart in the hand.

The agony of life,
unknown to the pleader of the cure,
the dreamers of ever after,
the cruelty that is has to offer.

to love is what we love for,
but what, of you give your loved one everything,
to everyone and everything and all that you get back in return,
a hole in your body, you bleeding with in-consumable pain.

The monster in the head,
the one we learn to hate,
the monster that they create,
by all those words of blame.

Whispering of the words such like,
cold and heartless,
speaking to you back,
worthless and alone.

The vessels of such ingredients,
pestled in a mortar,
now all that remains,
to take the body of the one they created.

A hand in the chest,
the heart in the hand,
now, read you with literal cautious,
for the heart,
in between those fingers.
squashed, drained,
from all that remained of you.

A heartless creature,
the one who loved none,
bare witness,
to the time, he loved all.

 

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8 thoughts on “Heart in the hand.

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