what do I do with this heart,
how do I console it?

awake and electric
only to signs feeling true
also--a starved animal of sorts
clawing to the bliss of youth
beating time just a little off
with the lungs of my history
this is the tragedy that sets me apart
from the rest of my frail body

and so--heedless pumping.
tolling for everything unforgiving.
here, the lacerations of palpable lies
running parallel to the coronary vein
deep within my living
and here too, the ****** scars to remind
myself, the bigger and louder the
beating gets to finally leave the past behind
each day swelling to the point of failure
and the world stops,
but my heart endures.

what do I do with this heart,
how can I do without it?