My Heart Beats Slow

On June 11, 2013 by Seth Anson Tribble

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When I want someone

No one knows

I hold silent my desire

Jealously guard this loneliness

Keep it for another tomorrow

To find a way I can be enough

I keep a carving of myself

Laying on my empty bed

Curled around a space someone might go

If any person could fit there

In the purpose-built hole

Between a bottle and a bad memory

A shaking head with a bolted-on grimace

To rest on invisible shoulder

And a wounded knee to cradle

Feet that never crossed my doorway

Carved in my bones

Just beneath my chest

An intricate linework in my sternum

Flipped around for my heart to admire

And beat more slowly

Pressed against tar-scarred lungs

Resting on battered-liver bed

In anticipation of one more memory

To come down the pipe like a wood maul

And crack it open again

So I tremble alone

And my heart beats slow

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