_&?_

 It doesn't make any sense really.

The wires keep coming and eventually all tangle in a corner, growing,

Slightly,

Every second.

Twisty ties and glue only reorganize the already lost project.

Duck tape won't fix this problem. 

Not a heart writhing in pain.

Slopped out on the floor, a nail in it's center,

And moaning groans dripping between the floorboards.

Is it best just not to mess with it?

The mop only pushes the blood towards the wall.

The knot finds new ways into itself.

I've got my hands full with all my other organs.

What's a heart to me anyway?

The brain has enough on it's mind.

My lungs never cease for me.

My liver, spleen and spine are all functioning.

Is the heart really any different?

Does the heart actually house emotion?

With a "broken heart" lying in front of me, I can only assume

I've been taught the feeling.

It hurts, but that's only because the hammer's in my hand.

Sometimes it's just the way I am that shuts me down,

Lays me out in the cutting room at the morgue.

And I watch myself being ripped apart by none other than...

 

me...

And I'm smiling...

 

How can it be that a tree uproots itself?

How can it be that an ocean swallows itself?