you could drown me in
a sea of hungry sharks
or feed me to the menacing
crocs in the parks

you could smoke me like
your last cigarette
or down me like
your last alcohol bet

you could grind my bones
and play with the  shards
then mould them up again,
into clean white cards

with those white cards
you shuffle me away and tell me
"shoo"

but my heart will still,
no  matter what,
run back to you.