I Gave You My Heart.

Broken and barely beating,

I gave you my heart.

I did not foresee myself wanting you to want it

but I had nothing left to offer,

a friend

than my beaten and bloodied heart.

I'd have given you one of my hands

but they had been severed

from holding on too long

to loose threads of lives that weren't mine

I'd have given you my legs

if I’d had them to offer,

but dance had claimed them long ago,

stuffed them into tan tights

and tan shoes

and they ran off together.

I’d have given you my voice,

if I’d had one,

but she was taken away

and declared insane

after too many screams

fell upon deaf ears.

I'd have given you my brain

if it was mine to give,

but my thoughts were

overrun, overcrowded, overwhelmed,

overall, not mine.

So, I had nothing left to offer,

but my heart,

tired of beating.

The only part of me

no one seemed to want.

I’ve watched it fall from

hand to hand,

pocket to pocket, alone,

collecting dust on shelves

and drying out in drawers.

No one ever thought to store my heart by their own.

You took the my of my heart,

but you too, didn’t want it,

so you left it to rot on a table by your bedside.

How could something so close evade your gaze so often?

The quick looks and passing glances

were all I thought there should be,

it was blackened

and cold

and decaying

but it was yours to have,

still is,

should you ever change your mind.

Time has tempted me to take it back,

but

I did not foresee myself wanting you

to want it.