If it wasn’t mine
I’d step on it, too
The glowing red heart
Lying on the floor

Of checkerboards
And chess pieces
Of kings and queens
And of long forgotten card games

And we’ll converse
Of love and lies
At peculiar tea parties
Dine on my heart

Cut into red flesh
Quieting its pulse
Of course it would bleed
And stain tablecloths

You’d tell me to stop
Stop caring too much
But I wouldn’t hear
Above all the shrieks

Of teakettles boiling over
And the discordance of dishes
As they are masquerading there
If only I could live like them

And you’ll tell me to leave
Push me out the door
Stop bleeding! Stop crying!
But it wouldn’t help

I’d sit amidst daisies
Feasting on soft petals
As the flowers all scream
I won’t listen to them

Bees that pollinated buds
Pierce my flesh with minim knives
But would I feel anything?
I am so used to the pain

And when this wonderland
Is about to explode
I’ll leave it so simply
You would never miss me

If you [Log In] as a member you can discuss this work with others