i want to fill these walls with smoke and suffocate this heart-
leave the mess for someone else with some strength-
it could even be me, on another day.
but today, this body is merely a cave.
hollow and uncertain
claiming no treasure or beauty.
just a place for echoes and other methods of repetition.
careless with sharp edges and tired eyes.
save for some torturous methods of love
or limp, cold embraces.
and so visitors grow listless,
pace the contained border,
and quickly depart.
no flashes of eager bulbs
or curiosity of its intricacies
and flawed character.
just a nod of the head at the exit,
as though to mentally cross off another
duty from a list of chores.
excitement seems to be kept for the polished,
so, it will encase this breath
and attempt to survive the lonely tremors.