I’ve got a heart for sale

It’s been used a few times,

But I no longer use it.

It’s useless to me;

Perhaps you’d like it?

I’ll try to tell you some uses for my heart.

You could cook it,

If you like bitter delicacies.

Don’t eat too much;

It’s like poison.

Another thing you can use my heart for?

I suppose you could carve it up with a knife,

Chop it into tiny pieces,

Sprinkle it in your garden,

And watch the flowers wither.

Yet one more use?

I suppose you could read it,

Tracing the name next to each scar,

Counting the stitches and tears

Before crushing it just like the rest.

Then again, you could

(god forbid!)

Give it some love and care,

Let it heal.

But then it would be fixed,

And you might try to give it back to me.

I don’t want my heart anymore.

Every time it gets fixed, it breaks.