What's Left of My Heart
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Concealed behind a masochistic mask,
hidden hurts levy a terrible toll.
And to feel one fleeting moment of peace,
I must defile both my body and soul.
Cringing all alone, wiping away tears,
I exonerate the cold edge of steel.
And lingering on the fringes of fear,
guilt, admonishes me for how I feel.
Shards of insanity cut into flesh,
and my inhibitions begin to fade.
For anticipating instant relief,
my expectations empower the blade.
With a vague awareness of each heartbeat,
I watch as drops of crimson flee my veins.
And anxiety slows my throbbing pulse
as the blood starts to numb my greater pains.
A feeling of fragmentation follows
as I crawl into what's left of my heart.
And drowning my hurt in its scarlet pool,
I gather each piece as it falls apart.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2016
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