Too Much Heart

There are some things that the
brain won’t let you see,
but the heart can make you
feel.
What we had was visceral.
Instinctive. Intuitive.
And now those little snapshots
in the camera flash of my
consciousness that have
your name stamped across
their frames make
my stomach lurch–
seasickness on land,
for you never touched the ground, did you?
The sound of your name,
the memory of your decorated lies,
the turmoil of our downfall–
they exist in my mind as things. Events, objects,
pasts-futures-presents.
In my heart they are vessels,
splattered in red and fractions of regrets.
And no matter what my mind dictates,
the pumping vessels always win–
unfolding me from indo- to endo-
until vestiges of me patterned in a slow,
pulsing beat are all that remain.

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2 thoughts on “Too Much Heart

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