27 November 2005

undead

You said I seem to lack a heart.
Had one but it fell apart.

It's been like that now for ages -
Alive only in diary pages.

The very heart you used to mistreat
Is but splinters at my feet

Burnt up by crushes and crashes
Into a sorry pile of ashes.

Heart on the sleeve, so starry-eyed
Left on the edge of suicide

Harboring a longing left yet unfed
Won't rest in peace. Un-dead.

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