A Handful of My Heart

What my heart has sown, my hands currently reap...

all that hurts down to the core of every bone,

and every cry from this war inside of me‐

My wrists have grown exhausted,

my eyes, weary and dry from proofreading this repeating topic‐

Once consumed with hope, but those tears have all been shed...

now filled with the color red,

the same color that might soon find itself painted across my bed‐

Rather than write out another of these, Tales of Torment...

Why don't I just reach into my chest and pull from it the fury that my face refuses to show,

hurry to set my skin ablaze and burn its flesh away,

that it may show what this journey has done to the place that resides below‐

Rather than write out another of my, Dangerous Wishes...

Why don't I just pick up my pen and let its ink burn a hole straight through this table in front of me,

skip the sheet of lines I would otherwise write on,

and simply show to every watching witness this void, of which my voice is unable to speak‐

Instead of venting out one more stream of thought...

I might just trade my tears for blood,

sprinkle it on my halo and let it drip to the rug at my feet...

or let my eyes focus on the flood of red that fills them,

that my burning glare may torch a hole in the puzzle that my piece doesn't fit in‐

The last remaining piece of my mind has wasted its time begging for peace...

only to find that suffering's trophy, is simply more suffering‐

This head on my shoulders is more than overwhelmed...

I might just lose it in this rage that writes out the red flags that outline this, Burning Paradise‐

What my heart has sown, my hands still reap...

putting words in the place of this agony that fills the cup in front of me,

telling every detail that to this day, continues to tear my mind into the shreds that remain,

and shouting every feeling my face has grown too numb to display‐

Here, have a handful of my heart.

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Thank you for reading!!

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