The open casket

The beauty of horror

My heart is an open casket

Its put up on display

In magazines, in billboards, in the journals of today

 

Its left in humming trains

And pavements brick by brick

Its laden in the soup that I am about to drink

 

Beneath quirky, fun and smiling

There is a lurking gray

Its creeping down the pipelines

To the core of sorrows grave

Asking, pleading, screaming

to be saved.

 

Its red, its core its hardened

By layers of fresh powdered blush

Slab by slab painted

Mush, mush, mush!

 

Wading in deep waters

The core is drowning in

Swallowed bit by bit

Whole by whole

Spat

Like little cherry pits.

 

Seed of evil

Essence of pure

It has it all engulfed

Be little, note tonight

Hearts almost rotten.

Display has been forgotten.

Author's Note

Inspired by the works of Emily Dickinson.