My heart is a big, gaping hole
A gateway for dead emotions
To travel through,
My blood veins, the River Styx,
Carrying these resigned feelings
To places to be forgotten.
My heart is Pandora's box, unopened,
Where darkness wants to be set free,
And it impatiently stomps on the chamber floor
Like rude drunkards that refuse to leave the bar
And little hope is in the corner,
Wanting to hide, wanting to disappear.
My heart is the mouth of a black hole,
A vacuum welcoming any type of guests in
They have no regard for the place in which they stay
Vandalizing and carving their names into the walls
And I sit there, trying to scrub it away, but I give up
Because in the end, it's all just a vacuous space.
My heart is an empty ship,
Carrying empty vessels,
Setting sail for destinations unknown,
And if it should sink,
It would make no difference
Because it carries no meaning,
And the newspaper refuses to print
The obituary of just one person
Lost at sea.
My heart is the bottom of a wishing well,
A collection of wishes, selfish or not,
That will never come true,
Because I am sewing it shut.
It should hurt, but I make no noise,
As I push the needle and thread
Through and through.
Published October 23, 2011.
