I. Heart. Me.

I try to cash in my lovers loans.

'It's time to pay up.

I've loaned you my love, 

the love that was meant for myself.

You see, I thought that you, 

you of all people,

would not take my love for granted.

I had hoped for an even exchange.

I loan you my love and

you loan me some of yours.'

But I needed a lot of yours

because I never kept any of mine for myself.

You'd try to tell me how 

I needed to keep some for me.

But I saw that as an excuse

to give out more.
Finally when you grew weary of my emptiness,
you decided to pack your bags.
It was then and there that I decided 
to cash in on your loans.
You only shook your head,
looking at me with sad eyes. 
I was dumbfounded and in shock.
'Maybe I didn't loan him enough!'
So I ran to the door and opened myself up once more.
I painfully clawed at my chest until
muscle and skin and bone gave way.
I dug my chipped nails into my heart
and handed you half,
bloodied and still beating.
You wouldn't take it.
I couldn't understand, 
why didn't you want it?
If you took it, I knew it would ensure that
you would be back to return it.
'You still don't get it, do you?'
You shook your head and walked out the door.
Left me kneeling, sobbing in a puddle.
Blood mixed with saline.
I felt so empty. 
I had no love left.
I was without a complete heart.
Half  laid nearly lifeless on the floor.
Half sat in my chest,
trying to account for its other half.
The pain it radiated as it called
to its lover.
As days passed,
I drown the withering half-heart
in rum and gin and wine.
It still refused to die.
I didn't want it anymore.
If you didn't want it
and no one else wanted it,
why should I want it?
I burnt it with cigarette butts,
tried to suffocate it with the smoke.
It beat a little slower 
but still was alive.
I fed it all kinds of foods 
only to squeeze every morsel out of it.
It just beat. Beat. Beat.
I stomped on it.
It beat.
I threw it outside in the cold.
It beat.
I poured the saline from eyes on it.
It fucking beat again.
Tired, I picked it up and looked upon it with pity.
Sigh.
I kissed it.
Sigh.
I kissed it and brushed the dirt off.
Amazed. Amazing that it could take all,
ALL that I had done to it.
Running to the sink, I cleaned it off.
The water ran black with tar and mud.
I washed it until the water ran clean.
I placed it back in my chest,
giving its other half rest.
And they beat.

By Mistyprest