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here we walk
through veins of blue and organs of pink,
all of it painted black to hide its beauty.
here we have
shreds of paper, lines of poetry,
embedded in the flesh of my heart.
in some places we might see cuts
where i came in and dug out some words
coated in blood,
i dripped them onto paper.
and over here we have
regret, painted on the black-and-white canvas of memory.
faces and words that can't be undone.
here we have love,
it's a small room,
but i would die again and again
for each and every one of them.
here we have pride,
the smallest room of all,
and every shred of pride i feel,
i lock in here and never talk about,
because i don't want to be seen as arrogant.
here we have lust,
the things no one wants to talk about
locked in here and hidden
because i'm told my feelings are wrong.
here we have greed,
the things i can't help but want,
the things i lie and say i need,
then hide away, never used.
here goes gluttony,
eating and eating when all she wants to do is starve
starve away the weight
starve away until she's skin and bone,
but she can't stop eating
and
eating
and eating.
down here in the basement is wrath.
he watches the tv with scorn,
throwing empty bottles of shame
into brick walls
and watching them shatter.
wrath never stops.
his anger never ceases,
he just bottles it up
and then he throws the bottles at walls
and watches them explode.
he loves the destruction
because it makes him feel better
about his own emptiness.
down the hall is sloth,
he never moves much anymore.
sometimes he is so still that you almost move right past him,
forgetting.
but he always surprises you
when you're alone
creeping up and feeding you
spoonfuls of laziness.
sucking away at your motivation through a straw
because he's too lazy to go get his own.
these are the freeloaders in my heart;
sin that lingers around corners and on couches,
eating my food, sitting at my table.
parasites living off of my happiness.
this is my heart
where sin has a face
and that face has a body
and that body needs to eat
i feed my sin,
like throwing bread to ducks,
and i paint the blue veins and beating walls black
so no one can see in
or out.
