courageous heart
but absent minded
empty head
free of logic
or true feeling
a blank slate
roaming the streets
burning with a desire
but not sure what it is
hiding from the places
where palms touch
because it feels too shallow
not ready, you're not ready
if you only had a brain
and not just a bleeding heart
pumping full of aching
and of a dreary reminiscence
the taste on your tongue
is metallic and nauseating
you desire to throw
it all away.
how good that would be.