BROKEN POEM

Break, broke, broken

My heart

Your ribs.

A surprised “aaa” from my heart.

A drunken “crack” from your ribs.

Local anesthesia, 1hour operation,

Your ribs are back in place.

My heart in pieces.

Pieces floating around my stomach,

Scratching my throat,

Itching my eyes.

I don’t need a heart to write poems.

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