This heart beats for you But I would have it beat for no man. Each shudder keeps me from the sleep That would take me away from the hellish prison of my thoughts. They wonder over you, into cells, Each with their own wrong word, Awkward moment, analysed, exaggerated. If it were possible I would take a knife and cut out This beating heart of mine. Put it in a jar. Restrain it with a belt. You can have it, if you want it. After all, it beats for you; I have no use for it now.
It's not a break up poem. It's more frustration over having a crush on someone and being unable to control your physical reaction even though you have power over what's going on in your mind to an extent. Maybe I should change the name to "crush". "This" was just a provisional title, after all.
