(no title)

Small Black Hearts

we wear small black hearts pinned to our chests
like medals, we borrowed them from children
we were and other corpses we knew,
and mothers taught us to preserve them

in self-righteousness and pretense,
religiosity and death, stony little nipples
we pin to our breasts for devils to suckle,
food for dead ghouls like us;

fools permanently out of fucking luck

David McLean