Hollow chests and shattered hearts are the equivalent
of birthing babies who cannot breathe,
aching for something that will not be there.
Angry tears and snapping jaws
were born in the same moment
disappointment crawled into your womb
and made a home of your soul.
Loving in hate longs for clarity,
clings to sound with deaf ears,
singing songs about heaven and hell.
Vacant eyes and unstable thoughts
make for nice conversation
with a man that teaches you
how to tie a noose with your words.
This is one of those poems that I thought of at 1 am and trashed my room looking for a pen and paper.