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