Thief be damned
you have no right
to the heart I fairly stole from another
in order to keep
my broken open chest from seizing.
So what if I did not love?
How could I,
once my own heart was savaged?
In turn
we take from another
who takes from another
who takes from another,
and so perhaps I have earned
your clutching fist inside my chest,
squeezing the last of hope’s blood
from a relic I never owned
and never should’ve been given
for safekeeping.
Goodbye
heart —
you never belonged to me.
Perhaps this
is the lesson we learn.
