empty streets
empty hearts
both as cold
as a shitty kiss
grit my teeth
and hiss
at absolutely fucking nothing
conversations that spiral
from meaning to
background noise
while the TV plays on
incessant chatter
till i no longer know
if it's the TV or a human being
talking to me
my head is in some space
where the angels float
asphyxiated
i count them off
one by one
i wish i could float too
wouldn't that be fun?

-------------
some days, you hunt for the poems. Other days, poems track you down like hungry cheetahs on the Savannah 

The Missing Heart

He woke up one morning
Like every other morning
But the only difference, he felt with a start
No sound of beating came from his heart

He slowly put his feet on the cold floor
Took one breath, and then took some more
Somewhere inside, he wanted to scream
And hope the sound would shatter his dream

But the floor was cold under his feet
He got up and started to brush his teeth
With one hand on his chest, he tried to feel
But the absence of beats was just too real

Filed a leave from the office and drove to the hospital
A doctor prodded his chest and looked a bit ill
"Sir, there is no sound of beat in your chest,
we'll have to open you up, that would be the best."

He didn't really care one way or another,
It was just a mystery he wanted answers to
In a few hours, he was lying etherized on a table
His chest open and doctors peering in the hole

Through a daze, he heard the doctors discuss
How there was no heart pumping blood in his chest
Only a circuit board with diodes blinking
In the haze of the drugs, he started sinking

He woke up again and everything looked so neat
He placed his hand on his chest and through the bandages felt the beat
We fixed your heart, they said, it's beating alright now
They looked sure as cocks, but he was doubtful somehow

Back home, he took a kitchen knife to his chest
It hurt to cut, but he sliced through the meat
The circuit board stared back at him in the mirror
Coupled with a small heartbeat speaker

---
Fuck doctors.