The High Cost of Living
by Denise Fuehrer Burnette
Empty conversations
spoken
through glassy eyes
Words with no meaning
echoed
from a voice with no sound
And I sit here
in this empty room
piled high
with rotting corpses
wanting to speak
but lacking the blood
drained of all love
for this precious game
And I wonder…
If I spoke the words
to fill this void
If I ripped
this rotting heart
dry and cracking
from my tight
and empty chest
and lay it on the table
for all to see
Would you even notice?
Or would you just turn
your empty head
away
from my empty heart
and ask the rotting corpse
lying next to you
if he noticed
the rising cost
of blood
these days