Where My Heart Should Be
Small Dish,
Short tines,
Weaving metal vines,
The doubt that fill my mind.
Waiting,
Wondering,
If you will ever see?
Or are you just as blind as me?
I fill the void,
With sense-less food,
Mocking my brooding,
Overly self-centered mood.
My heart it aches,
But it will not break,
Because you took it,
And left a gaping whole.
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