He sat
writing
writing
writhing
slithering out
words from a
heart
half functioning
half patchwork
all bleeding
and trying to find
the best words to call
for the downfall of
the old ideals of love
and happiness
because if he didn't have it
then it didn't have value
and nobody knows how
burned you can get
when you crawl into
the center of the sun
for warmth