deepundergroundpoetry.com

One Slice Each

My heart
was the blackest
deadest
bitterest thing
It left me no choice
but to cut it out
and set it on this table
for you to feed on
a thousand times
 
It was a good for nothing heart
no use to anyone
only fit for the fire
I see that now
and I realise
Hell
is where it's always
belonged
 
And because I was never fond
of farewells
just like candy
it must melt away. 
Written by Abracadabra (Abra)
Published | Edited 17th Jul 2012
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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