Oh that little daring, cunning slime
of a man that rips girls hearts with
butter knives finally found himself
painfully, undoubtedly

in love with a painter whom had taken up
writing poetry like a fool
continuing to dwell on the open heart surgery performed by the
mess of a future doctor that she loved way more
than those poems;

this surgery wasn't done properly
leaving her with an irregular heartbeat
along with a thicker skull

and the boy who threw matches at her heart to solve
all her problems
accidentally burned up her ribcage