the titanic
sitting in my chest
unsinkable
unmovable

I keep my stethoscope close
because I need to check my
heartbeat from time to time.

Sometimes I hear it beating so fast,
and sometimes I can't even find it.

Maybe I am looking in the wrong place.
Maybe it's not in my ribs anymore.
Maybe it's in your hands and

*you don't even know it.

The house, when empty,
feels like a moseleum.
Everything is dark.
It is strange, how literally I can feel the heart tear.
Pericardium and myocardium,
ripping with the slow, tough **** of time and waiting,
atrium and ventricle split.
Far away my brain turns in on itself
as I stare at the candy on the road,
left from a Christmas parade,
Defined by the things its left behind,
though they lie unwanted.

My soul has fled to the wilderness
birth pangs of grief beginning,
prepared to deliver a stillborn heart,
As another star falls out of my sky.

It will go dark, I know.
One by one fall, without wishes to bring them back.
I stare at my sister's golden hair
and dread the day when she will be the one lying white,
bloodless
in a hospital bed.
Oh my mother, Oh my father,
are you to fall away, too?

Light. I scream, I need light.
But I will not throw bits of glass at the sky
to pretend I have re-lit the stars.

you always ask me about love when i think that we are creating it.
when our entwined legs mimic the twin quotation marks encircling
a silence, your fingers tracing out crop circles onto my chest as if
they're attempting to communicate every scar across the galaxy.
i will answer with an alarm clock heartbeat and a tongue that glides
through your ear like honey: some people only love in the dark.
it's guarded with a harlequin smile but what i wish i could say is this:

i believe that people's hearts meet like plane engines on landing pads,
crashing down just long enough to leave trails on the concrete before
they realize how much they miss tasting the air between their toes.
i believe that when sid first saw nancy, his bloodstream confused her
smile with the iv that supplied his starving veins punk rock & poison.
i believe that love either leaves you to bleed or to wish you still could.

but i also believe that love can last. for nine long years, hachiko
nuzzled against packed concrete and waited on empty railway cars
because the odds were, his dead owner would have to come home.
there is a man who serenaded his shower walls with the name of a
disappearing girl; i hear he still makes love to her ghost every night,
surrounded by a stadium-lit choir who wouldn't recognize her face.

the last time you asked me about forever, i realized that stars don't
even last that long, let alone feelings we shove inside pericardium.
what we deem unsinkable can hit one glacier and send a thousand
into the sea; forever is three syllables that even titanic can't touch.
my nineteen years are a paper anchor if this ship ever goes down,
but i'll be ****** if a psychic's visions of fire and ice and endings
stop me from falling in love on deck until the band stops playing.

your cephalic is now distal from my axial
posterior when you used to be anterior
missing our deep talks, instead of superficial ones

your orbital region all but glances at my mammaries
tilting your mental up and away from me
ignoring my lateral buccal

I miss our manus's clenched together at the median
your pollex rubbing my digital
palmer's together

my thoracic lunges at you
trying to grip onto you using all my pericardium
my umbilical region hurts

If you question
             Straight thyself,
Commanding pride of trust
             Prefer to maintain love,
Resort monotheism
             Make the land paradise
Would receive ne'er
             Own assertive voice.

When fear to death
             Exists in whole,
Quick forget old differences
             Fretful prepense firm release.
Don't care,
             About breed and community
None trace
             Ground of velocity.

Though well teach
             The religion,
He is above mighty one
            Only regulate each pericardium,
Universe call His pleasure
            Man's power mean nothing
Could e'er leak retired
            Let have many logic gorgeous worming.

His angry look invite
            Cruelty by innate,
What melodious seen
            Guess enjoyed requisite -
Set on single platform,
            Fast evade blind destructive belief
Sail arch over brotherhood
            Cultivate rectitude in live.

I was thirteen when I made the first incision on my ****** heart, allowing its contents to pour out in a heavenly wave of confusion and innocence.
Which is fine.

I was fourteen when I tried to stitch the pericardium back together with the “I love you’s” that were never meant to be said, the heat of the activity, and the temporary “Stay Strong”s.
Which is also fine.

I was fifteen when I learned that the heart muscle can only regenerate in small, limited quantities, that it would never be quite the same in its entirety.
Which is, again, fine.

Now I am seventeen days from my sixteenth birthday, and I’m learning that time spent alone can not only let you find yourself, but can also lead you to parts of yourself you weren’t meant to discover quite yet.

But I am almost sixteen, and it’s too late. I cannot forget what I know.

Maybe seventeen will be kinder.

There was someone who loved me before I loved him. According to medical researchers his heart failed, that is before he was impaled. They said blood and water came out, Because he was stabbed in the heart.The pericardium is in the back, odds are they punctured that sac. So when we talk about heart break, let’s think about someone who’s heart was actually broke under the force of a spear, the reason why anyone in heaven can say “this is why I am here, I no longer have to fear.” Love that I can’t fathom, love is not an ******. Love actually matters on the grand scheme of life, so in light of this, let us believe in the Son that gives us light and let’s treat each other right.