there is a hole
in my heart
a steady leak
filling my chest
with blackened
gelatinous bits
of the parts of me
i long to share
but likely never will

i am tired
of screaming myself hoarse
hoping an eagle mistakes
my shaved head
for a rock
to drop a tortoise
end both of our suffering
like a modern day
aeschylus

i have no issues
with taking the blade
to shed the accumulated
nothing
found on my adventures
through the land
of the deaf blind beggars
who know only taking
since birth

and if i happen
to carve off the barnacles
that once represented love
yet now
just remind me
of the waves
overtaking my head
as well a generous
helping of my own flesh

it isn’t as if it matters
what’s a pound of flesh
upfront
when the cost
will far exceed that
by incremental scarring
as i accept the silence
welling up
from the jagged wounds

it has become
impossible for me
to cauterize
the sense of self
hanging like
an unwanted
a flap of skin
from the precipice
of soulscatter

i woke up tired
yet i will go to bed
with a supernova burning
in my belly
with the hint
of your name
upon my lips
and nothing but ache
tainting the land