The hole in my chest is condemned.
Not only by my hand but the hands of others who place loose bandaids over the hole they've left.  
together they all lay,
carelessly placed across this cavern of darkness,
Some placed taught, but weakened over time by none other the pitter patter of my heart beat.
I am my own worst enemy.
My thoughts wearing down the strung mesh placed over the open wound, and as I watch the bandaid wither away, I try and convince myself it'll heal better in the open air.