By the doctor I wait.
Smelling cheap needs.
Almost time, at the gate.
Patiently, I have dire needs.

The chamber creeks open.
A thick layer of black.
Another exits, mopping.
I'm dragging like a rack.

"Hello, How are you.
What brings you today?
I am doctor Surgeon.
Will you need an x-ray?"

"No there's no need.
I know what I'm here for.
I have a bad case of heartache.
It leaves me so sore."

The padded room,
The tainted lies.
My chest won't boom.
It won't even rhyme.

"Oh yes!
I know the case well.
The last one I treated.
Had a heart not so swell."

"What I ask from you is final.
What I ask from you is simple.
Hollowness is present.
Pop it like a pimple."

And so he does, I take the greeting.
The rip and tug and pull I'm craving.
From start to finish, from here and now.
X marks the spot of where I went down.

"Take your souvenir,
It's a treasure of the past.
X marks the tear. 
Of where the breaker hurt you last."

Gush full of empty nothing.
Gashes paint my chest.
Once effusive with everything.
Now there's no emotion left.

Bloodless, bone dry.
My heart in my hand.
I drop it down below me.
Right in the garbage can.

And when I creep my eyes down.
The initials are carved with gold.
Yes, doc was right, X marks the gown.
There lies an S that rotted me to mold.

I never used dialogue in my poems before so I hope that it flowed okay. :)