I'm scared by stupid things,
Like when I see the moon in the sky
During the daytime,
Or by thunder,
Even though I'm statistically
Safe from being struck,
Or by being struck
So blindly and carelessly
By this dumb little heart in my chest
That drives me this way or that,
Never knowing where it's going,
And certainly never getting there.


I'm also scared of open windows
On the third floor of a building,
And of anybody who has sideburns.

"Why are you so soft?"
she whispered.
"I'm not as soft as you think,
My dear."
But that didn't stop her
From sleeping on my chest.

She sat up suddenly,
"I'm sorry, I'll drool on you."
"You've done worse, darling,
I certainly don't mind."

What's a little drool on your chest
To have a woman engulf you?


That's a fair ******* price.

With his knife in hand
the blade brushes my skin.
So cold it burns
as sharp as a pin.

My blood oozes hot
as he punctures my chest.
All too soon,
my life is put to The Test.

I scream and I plead
for this suffering to end.
I twist and I lurch,
I kick and I bend.

But the pain, it persists,
and my heart begins to burn.
I scream as the knife
takes another turn.

Soon there is a hole
dug deep in the center of me.
Now my chest is wide open
out for anyone to see.

He picks out a massive knife
and slices my heart.
A piece for him
forever, never to part.

I scream in protest,
unwilling to give my heart away.
I do not want to be broken.
Should I not have a say?

He will not listen
no matter how much I plead.
He won't give back my heart,
even though it's what I need.

Instead he gets a needle
and, then, begins to sew,
but I want my heart back,
and continue to scream no.

My words disappear into the air
and he continues what he started.
Needle piercing in and out,
my heart forever being parted.

When he finishes, he walks away,
never to come back.
Leaving me to cry alone
and sob until my voice cracks.

And to this very day
my heart still aches,
because a piece of myself
he did take.