my heart is a graveyard of one too many souls.

tombstone after tombstone after tombstone lined up of the living.

the epitaphs read tales engraved by bloody tools.

the handymen dig holes in my flesh, in my heart.

they cut, I bleed

and then they plant themselves mere inches apart

as a recital of curses of more that will come.

"for whatever you may touch, for whatever you may sow,
it's only another casket that you'll reap."

A/N - Long time no see. My roommate and friend made me post this.