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I Wrote Hella So Expect Posts - Blog Posts
the heart
i want to write poetry but there’s no words in my mouth
saliva foams to the surface and there’s no sink to spit it out
clogged with frustration and rage,
i tell you:
i stopped trusting myself a long time ago
the heart is not the guarantor of interest.
i go back, again and again
find solace in the cage,
my present moment unsatisfying, and yet
more concievable than a future where i changed
the heart beats and tells me to listen.
mortal hand, electric flow, i tell it no.
action potential, depolarization
numb limbs, itching skin, proof, here;
that my body mattered, in a way, in the end
when they pressed an ear to my chest
still warm with fading beat,
ready to rest,
it told them, whispered secret;
she tried to escape me, separate me, deflect
and when the soul goes unnourished, body suffers
the energy pervades, more spent on the physical
on mental toil, means none for the rest
when she hated herself, she knew it was wrong
but she couldn’t convince herself of the best
good was not worth it, and she sunk, and i beat
until she finished me, too, inevitably, like the rest
‘now bury me quietly’ it said happily, contract and release salted life
the heart was right, in the end, as it is
neglect mind, neglect body, neglect soul
i tried to love you, it was supposed to be you
but you were never the goal