Black heart

Black heart

Your plan is not your trajectory
When first conditions are chaotic
Plenty may still go wrong
In doctrine a closed system

Or else you’d have failed
Incited to tempt in vulnerability
Be imprinted by an outsider
A nascent world-view distortion

But here you are with the ball
Running like a Brundle fly
Fuck your iteration concluding
This tiny black heart can die

It’s carcinogenic crap
Steaming through arteries
Fluid for the biosac
Your precious cornucopia



You’re too cold sometimes
Blinding me to the chances
You’ll ever give my soul
The gentle, warm-handed massage
It tends to want to need

But that may not be it
Or at least not all
What if there’s suffering
Involved in finding out
Is it worth our while

You need a person
And I need a horse
You’re wild and untamed
And I seem capable
Of fulfilling that role

Speaking of such
I admit I have a whip
But not that I use it
Except perhaps on me
When I find myself asking

Those same questions again
Should I stop it here
Although more often why
Would I not resolve this
Like I do other problems

Thing is this
I lose interest
And gain lethargy
In a cycle
Time is but a mediator.