My Heart is Out of Town
It took a vacation
left the country
to visit exotic foreign lands.
My heart sends postcards.
Ba-dump ba-dump (I love you)
Ba-dump ba-dump (I miss you)
Ba-dump but I needed some
time to myself
we've been together
so long
I wasn't sure
where you left off
and I began.
I write
long unimpassioned letters
(I haven't the heart
for anything else).
I remind my heart
that it is a part of me
there are tubes dripping blood
and dangling wires of nerves
and ligatures of muscle
dangling
around the hole in my chest
waiting for you.
I'll be back soon,
my heart says.
I'll take up residence again.
It'll be okay.
Sure, I say, I know,
if you love something
set it free
if it loves you
it will come back.
It will have little
scars on it
It will have
secrets
Sometimes it will get
a faraway look,
beat to a rhythm
you can't hear
no matter how hard you listen.
You can't really listen
to your own heart,
not even with a stethoscope.
The blood in your ears,
the hands that hold it
pulse to the same beat
and you're never
sure which you're hearing.
One day
my heart
will give up on me.
Hearts get tired
little injuries weaken them
their impulses get confused
then unsteady
incoherent
If I’m lucky I'll be there
to hear it
as it winds down
says goodbye
for the last time