My heart grew tired of everything one day,
And so packed his few belongings;
Mostly trinkets of sentiment inside of bags,
That were then packed into boxes of memory,
And finally wrapped in blue paper and red ribbon,
And slipped under the breast of his lapel.

My heart wrote me a note,
And then left my body via the small mouth
At the top of our rib cage.
When I awoke,
He was already somewhere else,
And all I felt in place of him,
Was an emptiness far greater
Than the one we had been sharing.

My heart’s note said-
‘I think it is time we went our separate ways,
Just for a time.
It seems that you can’t decide what to do with your life,
And I cannot wait for you.
I must go on ahead, for both of us.
We will meet again,
And I hope all can be forgiven,
After all, we did nothing wrong.
I love you’.

I tried to cry after reading it,
But he had taken all emotion from me,
And our tears were always kept in one of his ventricles,
I don’t know which one,
But I could not cry, and after a while I discovered,
That I could neither sing, nor dance, nor laugh.
All I knew was static,
And I realised that I was widow to myself.

My heart never called me,
Not once.
After three weeks I received a postcard in my dreams.
He was in Anguish.
He had been drinking his sorrows,
Fighting battles, whoring and indulging his senses in excess.
He had burnt bridges from shore to shore,
Hit rock bottom, and never even sought to make for the top.
Then he said he had a dream of me,
Alone in myself and unable to feel or love myself.

So, a week later he was in Constance.
After that he flew to Elation,
Caught a train to Empathy,
Hiked all the way to the top of the Piety Ranges,
And traversed the south side of Mount Feel Good.
‘You bastard’ I thought,
‘We were meant to do that together’.

He said that he was not yet ready to come back to me,
That I had to understand what life was like without him,
And that I would appreciate him then,
And we could be happy,
Because I would understand what I had lost.

Meanwhile;
I was alone.
As alone as ever.
In fact, my loneliness had calcified in the cavity
That my heart had occupied,
And stalactites of regret and remorse
Were dripping melancholy,
To create great stalagmites
Of turmoil and depression.
My body began to recede from the shores of life,
And I lost both appetite and humour.

My heart decided that it no longer required it’s belongings,
Let alone it’s lapel.
Somewhere in Compassion and the hills of Abandonment,
He let go of them, or gave them away.
All the sentiment and sediment,
The hatred and the pain.
He just let them slip away into the Great Cosm,
To be incinerated, or liquidated, by the Eternal Moment.

I myself was a shadow of a suggestion,
Of a ghosts intuition,
And my gut told me only, that I would very soon be dead.
Since I had lost heart,
I thought that I may as well give in completely,
That there was nothing more to live for if I could not feel.
I thought of suicide, or euthanasia,
But figured that death would come soon enough,
And no explanation would then be required,
For I had died when the right knew not what the left was doing.

It was then that something happened.
I was lying on my back,
My body twisted and riddled;
All will taken from me to be the God I Am,
My temple torn,
My house in ruin,
My name in ashes,
My soul itself a cry for mercy-
That he did return,
And bring back to me my breath.

And with it restored my body and my soul to a new glory,
And unleashed all of that which had been held in love or fear.
And I realised an Emptiness that was all embracing,
And I could see that I had died,
And he had brought me back.
And I said to him
‘You bastard, we were meant to do that together’.

Benjamin W Wild (c) 2013