Old Heart

I have no words.
Yet they still flow through gritted teeth.
They hold meaning to those who never felt free to be.

I have no emotions.
Yet I feel restless when I smoke my weed.
My tears only show when I'm not drowning under the sea.

I have no walls.
Yet I see crumbling bricks of meat.
They're part of my heart and they beat as if they're still part of me.

I have no love.
Yet my love letters are tiny and discreet.
If I blink I miss them and ignore my one and only plea.

To love me, as I have loved those who didn't need it.
My heart misses my old heart the one that feeds it.
With memories of old filled with love and trust.
I really really don't wanna keep getting buzzed.
But how else will my heart remember my old heart.
So I light a cigarette in someone else's backyard.