I left my heart on a subway bench.  
I’m in need of a transplant anyway.
It’s hard to say
If this incident
was truly a mistake
or something purposeful.

Maybe I just forgot to leave a note.
“Free to a good home..”

It’s a ****** nest
of faulty wiring.
It’s as honest as a metronome
but as chewed up as a stray.

I couldn’t sell it.
I couldn’t give it away.

Reluctantly,
I’ll drag it home
on a leash.  
I’ll shove it back
into the cage of my ribs
and wait for another stubborn start.
Guess I’ll have to jail it
like some unwanted beast
howling half-forgotten lines
to pass the time;

If I only had a-