my heart is an empty
box of pizza shapes
and dip
a half ten dollar bill
in the extreme
useless
cigarette without a light
almost but not quite
frustrating
abundance of guilt
without compassion or
love my feelings are all
well past my present
future blend
to mixed emotions
revolving around self
interest
in no one else
I trust my weak
punch virgin mary
graceless bloodless
heart beat echoes my
thumping lascivious
thoughts
wish
death list of
things to do
murder torture
contained in a
lukewarm preservative
my organs
ache from
inaction
as I wait to storm
loose thunder freely
through bodies lying
in my path taking
what I can picking
from the pieces
shapes my heart
an empty box
