red heart

an old love

She always liked big prizes.

You know, pretty souls and clean lungs, fragile bones and red hearts.

She asked me for mine, and I just asked for one thing in return. 

She answered, "Anything for you, love".

So I asked her to return it to me when it hurt.

But I can still taste the lies on her lips as we kissed, 

I can still hear the screams in my ears.

I can still feel the way her hands gripped my neck.

When there was no place for me to go, when she owned me

right down to the core of my soul.

We hung with frailty at the edge of a cliff. 

A cliff built by a blind man made of thin string and leaves.

She hung so heavy and so brave, but she slipped.

And I remember hanging there for days, and weeks.

But I held with all that I had. 

I could still see my heart peeking out of her pocket.

Her eyes looking up at me as I asked her if I could have it back for a bit.

At least, until I knew she was safe. 

She got so angry, her skin burned so deep.

I can see her rage fill the air around us as she screamed and screamed.

But I couldn't help her, and I lost my grip.

And she fell, fell so fast

and so deep.

It's almost like she was never even here, 

it was okay if she didn't exist.

Sometimes I hear her call my name

and haunt me in my sleep.

I'll open my eyes and see her

standing here, 

waving a red heart in front of me.

k.y