All for Nothing

All For Nothing

Wires cut off,
twisting like headless snakes,
whips spastically in death throws.
Short-circuited.
And you truly believe
that the thudding lump,
slumped against fibres and vessels,
really is caged behind my ribs?

Is it imprisoned
or did I lock it away?
Keep telling me I can’t reach it,
give it,
share it.
So much struggle to tear it loose
and now you tell me it’s trapped.

It wasn’t true before
but I don’t know
anymore.
I think I’m starting
to believe you.

Wires cut off,
it needs no power supply
to keep thump-thump-thumping.
Short-circuited.
Power cut short and you don’t
seem to understand,
that it keeps beating thanks to you,
you charged its batteries.

But they’ll run out,
They’ll run out.
And it,
it will.

Stop.

Copyright © 2008