There is
a dead heart
in this body.
I have searched
for a pulse or
a beat, and
found nothing.
It fills me
with panic, to
have something
dead and
useless
lying within me.
It fills me
with fear, the
idea that I
am already dead
yet still awake.
I think I'd prefer
my brain to stop
before my heart,
for I can feel
it's heavy, limp
weight in my chest,
and the shaking
of my hands as
they search for
something,
anything, to
prove I am
alive.
YOU ARE READING
My Voice
PoetryPoems meant to express things I can't always bring myself to say, emotions that run so deep in my veins, and thoughts that hang over my head. I hope you can enjoy this, or find something that makes you feel less alone at the very least. Many of thes...