Heart-Shaped Box

Rip out my soul...
Keep it from me
Be my private Persephone,
And hold my essence, until it cringes
Or dies...
Mete out such horror on my waking heart
That it shall not break, but be no more.
Show me the quintessence of you.
Drag me into your underworld,
Where truth and lies aren't mutually exclusive;
Where emotion is the seasoning
Of my body, ripped limb from limb...
Oh, how the underworld seems less cold.
Strike me down, and I'll be better,
For then I'd know acknowledgment...
Let me smile and seek escape
From Heart-Shaped Coffin in your mind...
Confirm my uselessness...
Bear platitudes.
Leave.

Author's Note

In hindsight, not very good, to me... Be brutal. Helps:)