Someone, open me up.Fillet me, from my shoulder blades, kneed out the knots I’ve collected throughout the years.Flip me over and crack open my ribcage, lungs deflated, heart popping out at you like a jack-in-the-box.Pour bleach down my airways, forget other aesthetics and make me pure like a candy cigarette.cut out my heart,Rumor has it that it's beaten for too long.Look inside, see the heart string that broke, the thinning of the aortic valve.
I hear my liver is rotten, kidneys growing mushrooms; my throat’s got a hole in it, my tongue growing blue.
Put a heart-shaped patch over every hole I've made, give me new, paper maché organs, ones I can’t feel in my chest.
Give me taffy heart strings in a cotton candy heart, pump me with helium, and sew me back together with ribbon and maybe, just maybe, I’ll be okay.
- Lindsey

More from Lindsey ↓

• @writing.by.lindsey on Instagram
• She is currently working on a poetry book.

Mentioned in this episode:

Write After: National Poetry Month with One Poem Only

Write After is a way to encourage poets to listen and write, and use National Poetry Month to highlight how listening to poetry makes us better poets. I know I write the best when I’m surrounded by beautiful poetry–it’s part of the reason I created this podcast, and I want to encourage others to share this practice.

We'll get started in April. You can share to #WriteAfterOPO.

#WriteAfterOPO