Deadwood

Look;
No heart inside my chest,
Open hole to
Aorta pumping
uncut hope
Onto everyone I touch
But it’s better, I know,
Cause when I had a heart
It was bitter and cold
But now
My love
My grotesque stump
I have nothing to lose and I chose to live
Now
Everybody tells me that
I’m such a good chum
Cause my selfish parts rotted
When my dreams all did

I
Failed to grow
I
Decomposed

But
Decay leads to nourishment deep below
So pity not
My soul, fermented
Probiotic, unrelenting
Maybe my fate is moving threads weaving, oh
Maybe I’ll feed, rebuild, mycilium