Closed Casket Heart

I am nothing to you, but flesh bound in pity and waste

A dislocated voice

from your memory that screams in the night

A body that longs to be found

A sunken recess on your grounds

Where the waste from your lush oaken table

absorbs in the weeds

and then feeds my dejected disease

I am nothing to

you, but residual heart-laden slime

Buried so deep beneath turning calender

pages and lime

A disgrace

My pictures all turned on their face

As you race

to scrape off the flowers i placed on the lid

with my hands to your closed

casket heart

I will strike you at night when your heart is not guarding

the door

I will creep in your sleep and your tears will languish on the

floor

You'll awake confused by this dramatic state

And you'll hate the

silence inside you, and call for me but I've been crushed

by your closed

casket heart