Is bled dry,
And a diamond has been chipped,
Into a perfectly round marble,
It sits in a pocket of your gut.
A universe hidden inside glass walls,
A storming summer sunset hidden beneath melting ink,
It constantly rolls around the throat.
A penny in a pie,
A pointed lid forced back into its glass bottle.
I can bury it deep down,
Shove it underneath organs like packing a bag too small.
Urges the tiny glass circle up the elevator of my oesophagus,
Back up to the top of my tongue.
A pinball machine spitting out all I’ve buried.
All that was left to rot in an open box,
Sour taste on un-wanting buds,
The most terrible sharp candy,
Oozing slowly through the lines of my teeth.
A taste that doesn’t leave for days,
Reminding me that like a child,
You never said yes,
You never said no,
You kept me locked to your heart,
A soul miserably stuck to a soul.