Once my heart was a fishing wire
unable to control what to acquire --
catching the jetsam and debris
invisible to the raging sea
invisible to the raging sea.

Once my heart was a mouthful of bees,
a hive hung high in the poplar trees --
a droning buzz, a battle cry
but once they sting, bees die
but once they sting, bees die

Once my heart was a cigarette,
a slow burn of the time I had left --
a token of some ill repute
an ember crushed beneath a dirty boot
an ember crushed beneath a dirty boot.

Once my heart was the sky and the ground,
the air and the water, the mundane and profound --
green flames and gasses and the splatter of stars
TVs and goat cheese and electric guitars
TVs and goat cheese and electric guitars.

Once my heart was a song,
but it didn’t last too long.

Once my heart was a married man,
an unmade bed and dishpan hands --
long walks at midnight in the heat of July
the words “I’m sorry,” and the word “goodbye.”
the words “I’m sorry,” and the word “goodbye.”

Once my heart was muscle and blood,
an organ pumping with a rhythmic thud --
the only reassuring constant sound
the only thing keeping me around
the only thing that kept me around.

Once my heart was a rain cloud,
lightening and thunder, frightning and loud --
it soaked and sullied the folks below
but they need rain to make things grow
they need rain for life to grow.