Once upon a time
I took the heart out of my chest.
I put it in a wooden box
Where it would lay to rest.
I buried down in the earth,
as far as I could dig.
X didn't even mark the spot
so I could always keep it hid.
It wasn't really strangers
who I didn't want to find.
I was more worried about myself
and the pictures in my mind.

I have been walking in this world
for a million years it seems.
Not filled with blood, or love, or trust,
or a heart that used to beat.
I spend most of my time crying,
tsunami waves of tears.
I gladly walk into the ocean,
because I have nothing to fear.
And even as the years passed,
and I searched for my chest,
I couldn't remember where I'd placed it,
finally laying it to rest.

It can be quite frustrating,
if I think I may come to love.
But I quietly remind myself
of all the things you'd done.
I wish to have my heart back,
before I'd known your name.
But instead it's good and buried,
and it's better off that way.