Crystal Scars

The Two Hearts ii

 They told me she lives in a ritzy penthouse,

in a sea of silver pearls and in a boat of money.

However, sorrow melts the happiness from her face.

Her eyes are dull; a pale indigo.

Her frown is like a scar permanently tarnishing her skin.

And her heart, even though it’s alive, is dead,

for it does not tick to the sweet song of life.

I am going to live even though I’m dying.

I will live longer than her,

the women that is drowning in her money,

because she is going to die for me.

She is going to give me her heart.

I do not know why she has decided to die unrest in surgery

and give up a life I would relish in.

I do not want her to take a bullet for me.

I should die commodious in the house of death,

hooked up to a heart monitor and gagging on drugs.

For I have nothing to live for

and she has everything to take.