tan-a-heart on your chest,
where your heart should be
now sits one superficial i'm-so-tough
bold patch in the shape of
what cannot seem real
enough to be

hotlines for hearts that ring together
in a bracelet of heartstrings attached
coiling around your ankle and restricting your steps
carefully, only belonging to one sphere
that suffocates and enclosing
the world outside is filled with oxygen
within this vacuum
there's only you
and you breathe
when you dream of breathing

hearts tell clichéd stories
because heartbreaks and breakers
split veins in the same places
rocketing between love and hate
it's only still charted on the same heartline
and the same traces of lipstick,
the same graph paper-thin-cuts

watching heartspills
like oil in the ocean
choking life on the ice skating rink
dip down destroying delicate tides
intoxicating

dancing on the sunlight and tripping between raindrops
heart running through a maze
and tilting bending and sliding up, not down
across rainbows with no reflections
there's only the earth
between forever and never