If you could take a Q-tip and clean my heart
you'd find 19 years of dark, ugly spider veins.
Traveling in the most unpredictable pattern.
Paths of questions and sorrow, doubt and pain,
broken promises and tears, debt and regret.
The residue is black and lifeless - no longer the color of blood.
It is sticky tar - hard to remove;
leaving its mark on anything it touches.
Sasafrass Lovejoy
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-heart-29/
