Inside a Heart

It's ugly The inside of a heart Desperate Shadows Nooks and crannies pulsing What a red and black thing To move all by itself Rhythmic but unfathomable Warm but inhuman The big bad meat at the centre It doesn't stop, you know Or Sometimes it does But it doesn't want to It doesn't want to stop It would bring the end of everything with it's hunger And go on Pumping Like a stupid horny dog Pumping at itself Against everything else What's it so angry about To go on Living like that? It's doing it now No one asked it to Can't call that work Can we? And it's not recreation What's it doing? What does it want? Will it come to rest When it's finally satisfied? Will it give up crying And look around at all the friends that it has That are happy enough Just Oozing Just sitting still secreting? Is it the only child In the jumble sale of ourselves? Is it too stubborn to shut up and go to bed? I would call it an animal But I know too well It's mine And all it's wants Mine to see too And all it's mess My mess And all it's songs My songs And all it's wholes And empty parts My own I would call it a beast A strange, flailing alien But then I would have to call being A stone