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The boy in my bed

cracked and split my heart

open over his knee,

now he swears it wasn't him

he swears it was someone

else living in him

and that fiend

was driven out

with pitchforks and stones

at his heels.

he bought me a new heart

made of mother of pearl and beach glass.

it was a beauty,

but it would not do.

it broke quietly on day two,

and so I spent the days since

gluing and stitching

the old one back to life,

and as I placed it in my ribcage,

I gasped as blue peonies

sprung from it's

ivory arteries,

and each sputter

turned my blood into

a river of fire.

Author's Note

will change as time goes on