My purple heart
is stained black,
hanging in the damp
cave of my chest,
the smoke devours
every breathing cell,
until i am fire
inside myself.
I can hear whispers,
pretended stories of
fanciful love.
I am no where to be found,
where do the rivers meet the sea?
Will the ships come for me?
Rancid men,
beckoning for fair lady's
lucid skin.
I will lay,
feverish,
with heart against stone,
pounding,
the beat of the creation
with a cave in my chest.
Upon stone black minerals,
my body composts to dirt,
I am heavy
when it rains,
through the earth,
my memory will purge.
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