My heart in a jar:
My heart in formaldehyde, my heart on Atlas' shoulder
As he shrugged, calloused fists balled up in his jean pockets
My heart in mercury, with temperatures and tensions rising
Tendons and diary pages ripping like a million battered hallways
I am editing our history
My laugh is a midnight folk song that betrays, that hails me as a warrior
Says I came out of blood and darkness to wolf:
To wolf at the moon, to speak in tongues and knives
To Morse code my intentions through a clack of heels
To lick the neck of regret and whisper
"There's no place like home"
To harvest beating hearts, hearts like tough steak
Hearts I could shove down my throat
Or mangle in the garbage disposal of my words
Hearts I could raise like lambs, hearts I could lead to the slaughter
But would never
My heart is drowning in a vase, Belgian style ale
Bubbles up like fear in my stomach
My heart is being observed
At the local hospital for unspeakable abnormalities
My heart is as removed from my body as anything else
My body has been memorized and works overtime
In the bordello of his subconscious
My kisses are gum he has swallowed that will take years to digest
His heart seeps white lies, bright as funeral flowers
His truths turn beige and seep into my carpet where I whispered
The words, "please don't", and took them back a summer later
"Please don't stop" became the heartbeat of a postcard-worthy reality
There is a taxidermied line caught in my throat
I'm not attracted to her, I'm not attracted to her
Two nights ago he slipped this in my ear
In the middle of a dark street, at a crossroads
Near a swing set
And now I'm looking for a way to destroy
Souvenir magnets on my fridge from his state
Of rain and grief
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