to say my heart has been misplaced
could not be further from the truth.
i know exactly where it hides,
because it was i who put it there.
deep beneath the dirt
that crawls with worms and centipedes -
underneath the rock
that's laid for years and years and years -
layer after layer
telling stories of earth's youth -
down into the molten fire
that burns forever more -
to the center
where a chunk of ice sits heavy.

won't it melt?
you ask yourself,
but this answer i do not have.

in the ice right at the center,
that's where my heart does lie.
and only the greatest of adventurers
even entertain the thought
of poking into the earth's entrails,
where man should never go.
but most don't believe that ice can exist
where molten fire roars.
so they arrive there and are disappointed,
their souls deceive their eyes.
for they cannot believe in things
that don't add up like math.
they sit and ponder
and then give up, their journey gone to ****.

i myself, chuckle under my breath,
until my sides do hurt.
what did they expect?