Malphaestus

I took my heart out.
My mind feels, my chest bleeds;
But none of it's real.
There's a hole there, where my heart were.
I don't feel; I think,
What's real, I can't tell-
Make me free, put me in another prison cell.
I want love carved into my eye balls,
Paint my head with the colour dread,
Do anything, so that I can feel like I'm living.

-

I dreamt of the End,
"Help," it said to me.

"I don't want to disappear,"
It whispered at apogee.

It's strange will,
Bore a hole in me;

"But 'the End,'
Don't you want to be free?"​

WARMTH DOES NOT NEED TO BE WARM.
THAT WHICH IS BROKEN IS BEAUTIFUL;
UNIQUE AND ONLY UNTO ITSELF:
TRUTHFUL.
​