A Dissected Heart for A Cowardly Fool

Your sweetness,

tender words,

are kisses on my dissected heart.

 

Scarlet with my idiocy,

a crown of shame.

 

Fool's fool,

parading in saint's mask

and desire's cloak.

 

In coward's court sits my throne,

a subject and queen

all to myself.

 

Love painted me a blind fool

or perhaps your sweetness,

tender words,

are thorns on my dissected heart.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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