I Don'T Want It Anymore

I don't want it anymore This forest of black fern, scraping thorn’d tree trunks It all looks the same Tearing at my flesh…ripping wounds upon my chest Severing slowly Pain merely a dashed figment of my stoic imagination Sharp blades twist Wandering for nights on end as days no longer exist Getting nowhere fast Frowning moss grows on the east side of sorrow Dying north spins As I hold in my hand this thing that still bleeds Two parts, gaping Seeking the perfect hiding spot in charcoal stone ash Shadows fade desires This heart is of no use to me, take it, I don’t want it anymore It is broken Rains soften this hell as I dig deeper into the sadness Buried in teardrop mud And I sit, amongst bramble and thistle spun chains Waiting for the end….