Flashback

There was once a heart inside me.

I remember swallowing it on a cold, rainy day

For warmth to feel snug and protected,

For a demon-fire to burn the wishful desires.

It was a Saturday I think.

A weekend for a perfect end

of Hope and a heap of other useless abstract nouns.

The fire remained, but only for a while.

Since then it has been dark and cold there.

A lump, perhaps of flesh, still beats feebly...

In its own mad rhythm, which I fail to understand.

Anyway, I never understood much.