Misplaced heart
The morning news showed a story about
a baby born with her heart on the outside
and as we watched together
you in your new world and me in our old one
I touched the screen as it beat outside of her body and
learned that doctors had to build a
hole in her chest to make room for what they called
her misplaced heart
When you were barely older than her
you molded your own discarded steel heart
into recycled brass knuckles
allowing you to fend off love in the name of hurt
and in the years since you’ve passed time
smoking wooden matches while drinking milk jugs of gasoline
from live wire straws and riding shotgun
with ghosts of who you should have been
Abandonment hit you like a winter morning commandment
causing scars that remain to become tipped in red making them look
like God’s words in the Bible
and the light you are now walking toward is
our 120 watt incandescent messiah
and while you fought off love I searched for it and
where a baby with a point of view heart is loved and cried over you thought yours
lost and never to be found
until buying milk by the carton I discovered your picture
So you leapt from the height of our love and
onto the rocks below hoping to induce amnesia so
you could forget your pain like they forgot about you
and if I could I would lure you home by cutting out a yellow construction paper crown
with green lefty scissors
and building you a castle from forgotten fun house mirrors
that could change your point of view and
allow you to kiss yourself at every turn
Our first meeting was brief and you kissed me so hard
that it drew blood and made me reach for something sturdy
And although quick we were electric but before long
I knew you had to leave me and us and why
Now while you lay here and I watch over you
I take a break from holding your hand and brushing your hair
and think that your hospital sheets are so stiff that if
I took a running start leap maybe I could trampoline you
out of here or wherever you are
But instead the monitors still beep and
nurses chart the trajectory of your heart and
I invest a nickel in a returnable Fanta bottle
and twist into it a fortune cookie love note and
place it on your nightstand with hope that
there is a beach where you are that it can wash up upon
and in the hallway I see doctors in an end-game huddle and
I wonder if they’ve seen the little girl on television too
and are they discussing how to build a hole in a chest for
another misplaced heart
—
copyright 2013 Steven Harz
—
Please visit my Amazon author page
Leave a Reply