You've burnt a hole
burnt a hole in the midst of something
something grandios,
a gargantuan shadow
of frowns and stares
and scolding index fingers.
You have slashed through something
something tired and mean,
mean with a mask of militant
satisfaction.
You have pushed your way through something
something like a chameleon
changing shapes when it sees fit.
How did you not tire?
I grew sick of it long ago
long ago I accepted it,
and grew (almost) fond of
it.
And then it took a break
to sip its coffee and grin
in self satisfaction.
And when it did,
you walked in unannounced.
And when it stood,
alarmed, unready,
its coffee burnt its lap
its grin vanished,
and you fought.
and you won.
You won this empty space,
space where this something used to dwell,
dwell in the alleyway behind my thoughts,
thoughts that now are filled with you,
with you I'm learning to dance,
dance in this empty space,
this empty space where that
something used to live,
live to slowly bring me down,
down below myself.
But here you are and there it's gone
gone from the life
the life I want to have with you
you are where my heart is
my heart is with you.

today, i walked outside,
and separated myself from
the hot hot heat
and the second-hand air.

the trees' breath filled me
like a balloon
with a cool feeling
of crisp 
and of fresh.

but the light that came with it,
like a tag on a pair of new shoes,
blinded my brain.
it clamped onto my mind
and my eyes
like a vice. 

i'm still suffering the damage
from the pressure.

it stole my attention away 
from the balloon that i was.
and because of that,
i deflated.

it lifted all the cool, the crisp, and the fresh
out of my chest,
and left it as an empty hallow.

it's still empty--
i thought it might be housing 
a hibernating creature of a sort.
Maybe a bear 
or maybe a mouse.

i couldn't hear the noises,
but i knew it was in there.

i tried to open me up
and find whatever was sleeping in me,
but when i reached inside
and fumbled around,
all i found was my own heart.

i forgot it was in there.

it was like finding an old note you wrote
to santa clause when you were young.
you'd had it all along and it's reassuring to find,
but it's easy to forget about for most of your life.

At first I wondered if maybe my heart ate whatever was sleeping there.
Maybe it got sick of the snoring.
Or maybe it didn't want to share the space.

Maybe they didn't get along.

I've seen things like that happen.
like when my brother's fish ate his other fish.
They didn't trust each other, I guess.
So the bigger, faster fish gobbled the other one up.

That's when I realized that my heart couldn't have done it.
It's never been the bigger faster one.

It's pretty good at being brave for other hearts,
but when it comes down to it,
it would share me with anything that wanted me,
so long as there was no confrontation. 

I looked a second time after this.
I ripped open my chest
and peered in.
I even brought light with me.

That was my first mistake.

The light blinded my heart, 
just like my brain.
it clamped onto my ribs
like a vice
until they snapped.

and now i'm left with no brain, 
no creature, no heart.
no letter for santa clause.

im vanishing 
into the light
and it's not nearly as good
as they said it would be.