What's in my heart?
I'm hurt.
Rejected.
infected with
a sadness that
won't go away
it only stays and
stays until I find a
hole and fall down
a rabbit's tunnel into
wonderland where every-
thing is a dream within a dream:
like you.

What's in my heart?
I'm angry.
Ticked off.
Picking off the
scabs of past madness
so I can see the truth under-
neath my skin, the sin that I've
committed, that I'm guilty of, but
I can only see the surface. What's
the purpose of a dream that kills you,
that pushes you down a rabbit hole into
a fantasy you can never live? A tragedy that
hasn't happened yet, an accident waiting to be
like you.

What's in my heart?
I'm afraid.
No, Terrified.
Petrified of the
future, but I can't
look back, and I
am blinded by my
fear of the dark. Yet I'm
looking for something in
the silence of my heart, in
the corner of my brain that
was hidden long ago. And in
the silence and the dark I find
a flower.
Like you