A tight grip on my lungs
A cold hand on my heart
An angry sigh no longer sung,
No longer a living work of art.
Kissed by the sadness of the living,
Left with my soul to depart.
I'd been only giving, giving,
The aftertaste bitter and ****.

One can go on just forgiving,
Gluing together breaking parts,
But it becomes too broken to hide-
the shattered, empty, giving heart.
None can save it, death comes close
Defying what one believes is smart
Your breath is drawn, eyes grow dim
As
     you
            suddenly
                            do
                                  depart.