The Dungeon

The black nothingness
of my heart
is the dungeon of my love,
my heart
made of stone and ice
never melts
except to mildew and rot
filling me with pain.
Black corners filled
with hollow,
empty memories.
Tears for a child,
never shed.
Love for a girl,
given with dark
crystal shards of glass.
Only malicious hands
nurtured a growing,
voluptuous body.
A dark dungeon,
where I hide
from the spinning nothingness world,
from your intrusive hands.
The dark dungeon of my heart,
my life,
thrown in a corner.

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By Wendy Simms