On the Distribution of One’s Heart (A Haiku Quintet) I had given my heart to someone who didn’t know how to hold it. Instead, they cradled it like an adolescent with a stranger’s child: awkward and uneasy, with a fear of falling head first and snapping. I gave my heart to someone who didn’t quite want it and was surprised when they gave it back. They said to keep it safe, but their fingers left bruises.
Heart Burn
Hey guys, i’m not dead! I wrote a poem and everything. Read on for delicious teen angst. -.- Heartburn You are bad for my heart. Premature ventricular contractions, Unexpected palpitations, Chronic pain that no Clinically proven prescription can palliate, With prolonged burning from passions Long since passed. All you’d left was a hole, And I was defective. Recovery is slow, I’m still clogged with thoughts of you, But the heart is a muscle So I’m working it out to be stronger. Remission lulls into complacency, So relapse is swift, acutely reminding That chronic pain is persistent. It is a return…