I Kidney You

I won’t give you satisfaction
No matter it rises up, grips
Chokes, not a tear drop will fall,
Nor slide, but remain in my eye.
It’s just a muscle.
Contracts
Pumps
Circulates blood
Relaxes
Hollow muscular organ
Beats
Rather a lot,
Not possible such emotions stems,
As the poems reflect, so many
Unrealistic, stupid useless feelings.
It can’t break, or ache,
Be squeezed, crushed, or fucked,
Hurt, wrung, cry in song,
It can’t have faith, believe, dream,
I don’t give a crap what the lyrics read,
It’s not stood on, trod on, rebuffed, or snuffed,
Can’t feel attraction, distraction, sigh or lie,
It can’t listen, reply, be submissive, or blind,
Impossible to feel belonging, devotion,
Or make you blush. It won’t whisper,
Or be the object of desire.
Absolute rubbish!
CRUD!
I’m tired of the word love.
It’s all the fault of the thalamus
Apparently.
Damn the cunt.