|
Well, the best thing my heart does
is turn into a pussy. then into a cock. then back into a heart. except i’m a flunking magician so i don’t have any say over when it does that. the worst thing my heart does is tell me that there is something i can do to satisfy it that there’s such a thing as satiety (there isn’t) and if i just do a few small things, it will stop being hungry come on baby and on like that until i’m trying to pick the shattered glass out of my knee. until i’m paying a doctor to aspirate some man’s genetic material out of my body’s foulest mouth. the best thing my heart does is wallow salt-snot tears snuffled back down its valves and the best thing my heart does is scream, the glassbreaking note prima donna in floor-length silk pulling the air inside out. the best thing my heart does is eat you alive until you’re bones and silt in the gray water of his stomach every possible shudder discovered and the worst thing my heart does is eat itself and then the hunger grows double inside his sucked-out mouth and then he shits out the world. |
