My First, Um, I Think, Purge?

While I sit in my four cornered room,
I divide hearts to shreds of pomegranates and leaves.
You whispered something once before.
It got me mixed up inside,
Flying like feathered wings to wax.
My arms kept squeezing you,
My eyes pushed against your throat with oceans.
I said not to go; God, don't go!
"I love you" with such angst pressed my lips,
I could have thrown up.
Stitches light the road home sometimes,
And you speak in tongues of glorious emotions.
I hope I didn't just divide your heart to dirt.
That would suck like hell.