Here's one from the chest "84"

There's my heart.
Take it away.
It seems I've little use for such a thing.
A musicless organ, silent in my chest.
It does not beat the way it did,
Just one like all the rest,
Used to fit so well in here;
Used to do a job
But now its just a token heart
A formless shape, pseudo-art.
Id prefer an open heart.
I'd even take a broken heart
One with a purpose,
With love beneath its surface
But there's little left of what once was
And little left to say
Just memories that echo in emptiness
Like prayers to a godless heaven
To whom shall I pray?
I have no need.
So there it is
Just take it.
Take it all away.