I have come here to puke my guts out
All the knotted sadness
Holding me hostage
To a million insignificant tears
They will line the soil with their blackness
And the fertility of hurt will birth a rich bleeding ground
For worms that stopped niggling and now lie quietly
Their bellies heaving in tune
To the enormous silence of the earth.
My heart wiped clean
Of this suffering in repeat mode
Will have the tacky flavour
Of cardboard left out in the rain
Partially waiting for its death, attracting goats
Turning into rubbish.