Consumption

My heart is a singular thing,
fortifying its purpose,
consuming all beneath the surface,
discovering if this life is more than just a fling.
No control in what this heart brings,
allowing all hurt between its seems,
great love or great fear,
no control – absorbing all into its fragile sphere.
I take your hurt and make it my own,
the curse of this heart I gladly invoke,
my heart – the bringer,
my mind – following its procedure,
my journey contorted into this sentimental creature

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