I gave him my favourite book
And laughed it off as expanding his "cultural horizons."
I showed him my favourite movie
And shrugged it off as "chillin' and killin' time."
I sent him all my favourite music
But could not write it off as anything
Other than pure devotion.
I want to scoop out
His eyes that read my most beloved works,
His unworthy ears that heard the tunes of my heart,
His awful, ugly smile that enjoyed my dearest film.
And so now here I sit,
With his organs lying before me,
Looking lovelier than on him;
And still, I am not at peace.
The rumbling in my heart, and the twitching in my fingers
Has not stopped.
I dive for his heart;
I will sew it on my sleeve.