My heart
My warm, warm heart
with every thump it bleeds a little more
This rotting chunk of flesh
covered in oozing sores


There's a couple bits of glass
buried deep into my flesh
little bits of muscle
seep over the
shards that dig into my heart
my warm, warm heart
and it's
sharp, sharp glass

A heart can't beat around glass


Take matters into your own hands
love
take my heart into your hands
and dig those fingers in
ever-so-roughly
pull out every piece you find
each offending frgament
it hurts
hey, it hurts a lot
you remove the glass from my heart
with your blood-stained hands
my blood
....or?
each piece falls to the ground
you throw them away
and my heart begins to
beat again
I begin to
feel again


Her hands like silk
and her
gleaming sunshine smile
and her
familiarly exotic tongue
I know people who can sew with
the prettiest golden thread
and heal with
the most compassionate of eyes
while simultaneously laughing the
most vivacious laugh
and each shared laugh stitches a new
cut on my skin 
and I begin to heal again 
The scars do not stand out
and instead those shimmery strands
gleam proudly
showing off my newly constructed
golden heart


Silver, silver, silver
She offers me the most beautiful of silver
the tears of the moon
Resting in my hands
or my pocket
Golden thread is very weak
and so are humans
What
to
do?