Heart of gold
To selfless
To keep the riches to myself
Voluntarily shared the wealth
But most were taking in the form of theft
I use to be filled to the brim
Gold coins overflowing out of the chest
Now when I look inside it
There’s hardly any left
I felt each piece that was taken
Never to be returned
Maybe I should shut the lid
But that’s a lesson I haven’t learned
My heart is to big not to share
So the lid stays open
Even if there’s a risk another gold piece may be stolen

Struck a vein in my heart like you struck a nerve
Now I’m heated
And bleeding
Didn’t know I was so human
Who knew a small *****
Could cause this much blood
Spent so much time trying to cover it up
That I missed the tears
Pouring
But men don’t cry
So I stepped out in the rain and hid it
Numb today but tomorrow I feel it

Pigment earth
Water
Tree paper hair brush
Hand eye brain
Trillion particles
Foot root head sky beyond

Mark on paper
Connection

Infinite time
Space definition

Mark of possibility
Existence being
Or gone

Stained and left
Forever to
Decay slowly

On this cave wall

Today

can i please just get to something plausible
in this poem

where the readers are like yeah,
this is it sam, you've done it

now you can go home
lay in your bed
and say that to yourself
as you mow the lawn

the grass will move in a way
that resembles

people clapping for the wind
and some iguana

will sprawl his body out in the language;

he'll clap too
and you'll use him

as some sort of finger that pokes at that
******* clichéd darkness

that every ******* guy
has wrote about before

yeah, sorry
your doomer-*** is ******

because there will
always be that one robert lowell character
in your life

who will find you and say:
you must write sylvia,

write about that dumb dark deconstructive
****

which doesn't even make sense because
they were both confessional modernists and i
haven't confessed to anything