Monsters and monsters ((___))

May my heart be but food
for demons,
the pumps and valves
decorations for the
morbid and hateful.
May my heart be but
a sustenance for
lesser things, as it's
worth without you at
its center is not
merely questionable, but
damnable, a thing not worth the
terrible toll it exacts in my chest,
a thing cruel and empty and terrible,
to any request I would surrender and
destroy it.
I, a mendicant before you, beg
and plead not audience, not voice,
not kisses, no -
I beggar your return to it's red
walls, I beggar a return to the
tomorrow we dreamed of, I beggar
and lay prostrate before -
you.