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My heart has been dragged into my feet, I think, Where it pumps blood, horribly, towards my chest. Sometimes I can feel the lump near my ankle, And it hurts, Almost always, when I walk around the house with it. I tried to pull it back up in me with deep breaths. I thought If I breathed out enough air, my heart would fill the empty space. But my lungs, now, just search for both air and blood, It seems. They’re always quiet, these days, like the earth after snow. Only one day did I feel my heart pounding in my head. I felt it But its pumping simply bludgeoned what was left of my brain.
0
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 2:17 PM UTC
My Heart
My heart has been dragged into my feet, I think, Where it pumps blood, horribly, towards my chest. Sometimes I can feel the lump near my ankle, And it hurts, Almost always, when I walk around the house with it. I tried to pull it back up in me with deep breaths. I thought If I breathed out enough air, my heart would fill the empty space. But my lungs, now, just search for both air and blood, It seems. They’re always quiet, these days, like the earth after snow. Only one day did I feel my heart pounding in my head. I felt it But its pumping simply bludgeoned what was left of my brain.
brittany-jones
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Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 2:17 PM UTC
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