Ode To Curses

the heart is a well you can go for love for contemplation abandoned, it morphs into an old well dark, foreboding and uncanny ready to claim you if you wish to join it plunging in and be a source of abuse, your quietness and calm demeanor shakened now and then to clean up the soiled of other people the heart is a well to store the graces from heavens or a dungeon of curses for those who cast a cloud over your glowing wish and sunshine you hear echoed in every splash of the drawn water - if you have bones they will break if you have hair, they will burn if you have skin they will crackle if you have nails, they will crack and when you get the love of your life, your heart crushed into a million pieces in your despair you walk around smelling like a corpse