A Heart Made Of Lines

[Revolte]

Tar sketches outlines
that form a mess,
a thing just as sick
as it is loving.

But it remains an ill
upset silhouette
built awkwardly
by lines.

It is beautiful
but it is empty,
it is scared,
and it is fragile.

Because it knows
what I wish I could forget;
that all things
are unreal

and we are movements
dancing blind
with left feet
tarnished by blisters,

and there is a road
we all walk
–shyly in darkness–
that has to end.

So I sip water
wishing it was wine
so I could forget
that it does not exist,

or matter,
in my state
–so temporary
and lost.