The Soft Heart.

Poem.

The beating heart inside the chest,
Beating loudly within thy breast.

Squeezed and squashed against the bone,
Blood pumping thickly the heart is squalched, set the tone.

The beating heart inside my fist,
Beating softly within thy fingers.

Still beating as I clench and squash,
Slowly putting pressure on the edge of my life, the soft heart.

A loud popping sound, red liquid flowing from the cracks in my fingers,
My life no longer living, falling to the ground,

Nothing and silent, long distant stare.
Soul's escaping into the air.