my first steak was in my heart

can't sleep
​can't wake

living in the middle
memories shuffled like cards
I leave them scattered on a table
walking in the unlit rooms 
of my mind
trying to find something
that fills this emptiness

every sad thought 
is a splinter
that I don't bother
to dig out 
there are so many
in my skin now that
pushing others' buttons
hurts me more than it
hurts them

I suck at my wounds
and it looks like I am 
kissing my fingertips
this iron taste
reminds me that blood is life
 
my first steak
was in my  heart

with bloody 
fingers
I pick the cards off 
the table

turn over
the death card
again and again
all this time 
I thought I was playing
go fish

the scythe cuts
through the dark
revealing a door

the only way out
alway hurts
yet I keep
moving on