Celibate Hearts

A late night poem, comprised of what would seem to be mindless, painful screaming.

My heart clotted at the sight of you.
Too much of a bad thing,
But it felt so damn good,
To feel my own pulse, to feel my heart beating.

Feel most alive before the poison hits that
Hollow in you’re chest.
What good is life when I can’t feel,
You’re heart beating against mine?

I would have screamed the stars out of the sky for you, love.

What is this?
My hearts beating?
I can’t feel it
It’s just so plastic.

Teflon tears
Streak down my face
Please don’t tell me
My life’s receding.

You once asked me, love, “Where does the phoenix go after she’s reborn?”

I can’t scream,
A pane of glass,
Sits inside my mouth,
And it’s so god damn cold.

Baby, it hurts so much,
To not hurt for you anymore.
Baby, I could scream down all those stars,
But the shooting star we wished forever upon.

“It goes to find it’s heart, love. But it’s hard to piece together shattered plastic hope.”

Beat my fists,
Through these fucking walls,
Be not alarmed,
I can’t feel my limbs.

My binary star,
I can’t feel you,
Be not alarmed
At my synthetic heart.