I'm holding my heart to the light,
Trying to find a reason to breathe.
But sometimes I hold on so tight
I think it would be easier to leave.

I see my heart is all torn up.
I know I have my blade to blame.
I remember when my heart beat red.
It will never beat the same.

The beat is getting weaker.
And it trembles at louder sounds.
It walks in shuffles of my feet,
when I used to move in bounds.

I put it back inside my chest,
and close its little door.
I wince as it latches - What should I do?
I don't want it to hurt anymore.

But I felt something in my pocket
Took a breath and undid the latch.
I strike the object, throw it in.
I'm glad I was carrying a match.