I guess I'll just have to open my heart wider than my pretty little mouth.

Too bad it's been stitched shut with the linings of your actions.

Gonna have to
pop pop rip it
at the seams
it seems.

Frayed flesh
frayed flesh pray
to Ganesha Ganesh.

Bleed freely
cut it loose and
let it flow like a river.

Remover of stitches and rain fixed ditches collapsing in on themselves like a star folding itself up and hiding in a drawer.

Dust bunnies get bigger the longer they can stay unseen.

I like to collect particles of past lives and the stories of fallen strands of hair.

Along the lines of wispy waves come fine chimes of timely bells bellowing only perceived truth but truth nonetheless.

Tear it apart like you would the last letter a lover wrote you.

Let the pieces fuel a fire to keep you warm and bright.