The thing about the human heart

(a revision of a poem that pretty much sucked)


It breaks. Heartbreak is that thing when

it’s too windy to go up in a hot air balloon

that’s actually a belated Valentine date,

but the current running through the sky

is just gentle enough to fly a kite. You tie your

heart to the string with your

head as captain and sail.


Your bones are leaves caught in the

draft running rampant through

his mind and he has the decency

to step around your body, crunch pieces of

someone else instead. You are whole

and your heart remains free

of the glue drenching so many others.



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