sickly.

I am made of everything I have ever loved, 

And right now my heart is a bitter thing. 

Molded from the inside, 

I am trying to clean. 

Leaded. 

A mass I do not know how to hold, 

And most days id rather exchange it. 

All the feeling, the sticky hearted love I had, 

The imprints that people made.

I want a new one,

Sometimes. 

A fresh flesh. 

Crimson, innocent, and fragile 

But maybe I can keep my sticky heart 

For safe keeping 

Or something to reference

Not puncture and play with 

But to admire the effort it gave

Because if I am made of everything i have ever loved, 

It’s nice knowing that heart, 

My heart 

Stays with me.