Comforted Sadie Konecny

50
 Garret 2020
bleeding heart

simple words and dark ink bleed through the page,

black and red mix together, thick as tears, and stain the
skin you once touched.
swollen throats and shedded tongues flick against the teeth that hold on the
words, screaming to reach you.

A smile, indirect and forced, is plastered onto the plastic face of the day,
sticky with salt, stretching tightly over the skull. It does not move yet it’s
close to ripping, close to exposing the real face. The one black and blue and
beaten by the notions of not being good enough. not for you.

Why happened to the rawness of our emotions, of the feelings, of the confes-
sions, of late night secrets and worn out inside jokes. They’re still funny. The
heat between the two, cooled by the frigid moonlight air, skin and leather
the same, stretched open by the pressure, sweat and blood, sticking to the
vehicle of the human body and heart. my heart.
Remember, the heart that is yours. The one I always had fastened on me
sleeve, bloody, pricked 100 times and oozing out thoughts of you.

The heart you didn’t want.

To whom do I owe the pleasure of getting hurt. To you or myself?

Dakotah Brown
51