Was it mine?
From the start?
At one time, I knew
now I'm not so sure
a cold wind blew
through this body
of 98.6
76% water
Muscle and fat, kinda thick
the heart has a memory
of its own
not like the brain
its the home
of the being
of which I reside
The brain remembers
watching the evening tide
sitting on the cliffs
watching the ocean
seeing whales spout
water unclean
The heart knows
what I loved best
little as it is
and shuns the rest.
Hellbound heart,
you know my destination
Nothing left now
the plans creation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem