| jwmds Lubbock, TX
 age: 29
 
 
 | This is a really disturbing poem, as much for myself as for the reader. I wrote this a few months ago after a road trip wher I had been really looking at and immersed in some weird abstract art, combined with a feeling of having very recently been used and ultimately burned by someone who should have done the opposite. Here it is. 
 
 
 
 
 If a hand were growing
 where there had been an eye
 Tears would then,
 run down my wrist
 whenever I should cry.
 
 
 And if a mouth appeared,
 where there had been a foot
 I would taste the earth
 and vomit in my boot.
 
 
 And if you had a heart
 inside your pretty head,
 Things would not be as they are
 I hate you
 I wish I were dead
 
 
 I had a hole inside my heart
 So I put
 my finger in it.
 And thought...
 if I could go back to the start
 I never would begin it.
 Because my butterfly has turned
 back into a worm.
 
 
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                | jwmds Lubbock, TX
 age: 29
 
 
 | I forgot to put the title of this poem it is called 
 "What you call the heart really exists inside the head"
 
 my bad.
 
 
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