Heart

What is this

Lumpy red.... thing...

In my hand...

It beats

It bleeds

It is dripping

On the floor

(I just cleaned there)

What a mess

I confess

I don't understand the function

Of this thumping.... thing.

There are trails leading in

And out

But what is more

It is crying

Laughing

Loving

Lying

It is

A disaster of a thing

But what is worse

Than the mess it's making

Is the pathetic fact

That I am a slave

To its rhythm 

Its endless 

Unending

Thump...

Thump...

Thunk...

Two Faced

We work together.

It would never work.

I feel too strongly.

I feel everything.

He is so intuitive. 

Why does isn't he in tune to how he makes me feel?

Everyone says it's a good idea. 

Does he think so too? Will he ever?

I am his right hand woman. 

Will he ever take my left hand?

He calls me Friday. 

I wish he would call me everyday.

I get angry that he doesn't get it. 

I would do anything for him.

It's like a rollercoaster. 

He makes me feel the ups and the highs.

I don't know how much longer I can hold on. 

I have been holding on for too long.

There are two sides to every story.

And he will never know mine.