The decoy hearts sit in the ribcage like the original heart did and gives of the persona of originality. A Poser, as another might call it.
Like doll’s eyes, lifeless but giving off the idea of sight.
Soon it becomes decoy, dating decoy, and then they get married and they sit in the back of the car staring straight ahead at..
What they wish they could have had and they hold hands, but it is not what they think it should be.
The hand doesn’t fit quite right.
When you love someone else enough
They take your heart and run with it and leave behind the decoy.
The decoy just beats blood.
It does not race or flutter. It does not even break.
There is a gap in my hand where your fingers used to fit, and when the new boy holds my hand it’s clumsy and unfamiliar.
I wish he drank coffee and read books translated a thousand times over.
He wishes I would wipe my make up off and show him my heart.
