The Prune Poem by Tsunami HiroshiSu

This dried and shriveled thing inside my chest
I don't think that it's beating
I think it may have died
I know it is not pumping
Life throughout my veins
It's cold
It may be frozen
Withered
It sits beside my lungs
And they gasp out
But still the prune doesn't stir
And so I may just slumber here
Until something lights me up
Maybe it will be lightning
That sparks me till I wake
Maybe it will be a flame
I will wait
And close my eyes
And maybe this prune inside me will just shrivel up and disappear
Or maybe it will drum again
Against my ribs
This frozen lump beside my soul
It waits
To have the chance to beat once more