Heart Strings

i can feel it tug so slightly at corners,
of frail forgotten heart,
it throbs for tears spilt by mourners,
the emotions that burn a form of art,

trapped in a cage of rickety ribs,
closed off from the things that make it thump,
it runs on fear and flows on fibs,
the sudden halts makes it jump,

but it is guided blindly by stings,
a puppet full of bloody remorse,
never to fly high and spread its wings,
the will to go on is pushed with force,

but yet love will burn at the edges,
passion that can't be understood,
to the one who sees in we make pledges,
as if our chest is of glass instead of a hood,

but please stop pulling at my sensitive heart,
be blunt and firm, a useless knife,
it's been teasing me from the start,
but pull as you may for this is life,

the strings are telling my heart to burn,
in sickness, regret, and fucking reality,
in pain it's for happiness i desperately yearn,
the emptiness is like the end of mortality.