Heart

A Poem by Alana Zombie

impure

Murder of the mind
Since today I've been soaring nowhere
And from now on
Will I think in tongues and scripts of impurity
Anorexia of the heart
Lately I've been starved
Deprived of a better future, holding my bottom lip
Making sure I don't bite it off
I'm content with swallowing my tongue alone
And it falls into the bowels of my index
Landing, splattering on the varandah
That hangs over my stomach, canvas of red
Acidic eyes lie inside my guts
And watch as my tongue becomes nothing but garbage
Though it sounds hypothetical
I'm about to puke