i never sought absolution for the sin of being me

choosing artless crafting instead

just another piece of paper on my paper maché heart

and that may be where the problem lies

in the indifference of unspeakable truth

just a mishmash of used post it notes with your name written in various scribbles

random splashes of glitter and crudely drawn hearts and near illegible cursive

justification and imprecise sympathetic leanings scrawled in margins

i don’t fear anything in this life anymore

except being me

the bits of arts and crafts that make up my insides less inspiring than tacky heirlooms of who I wish i were

the calm within the storm

how can i juxtapose this insane desire to be something to someone and wishing the invisibility of my heart could become a cloak about my mind as well

it’s hard to fear when everything has already been given away

an emotional yard sale with one cent stickers and coloring books of emotional detachment

i’m a poor artist with the depth perception of a one eyed fool wearing the eye patch on the wrong side

so i removed my paper maché heart and placed it in the blue mail box

severed the pipe cleaner valves

and rinsed the glitter from my chest

just wrote in large font upon the weakly beating thing

hers

maybe the delivery man will be able to decipher enough to get it to her residence far from here

she can toss it away once it arrives after too much time spent trying to make sense of it

i’ll put a chewed piece of gum and flecks of fool’s gold in it’s place

assign value to inane nostalgia

my brain a tangle of yarn

a rain stick in place of a spine

it is soothing when i bend over and the needles fall into place

an eight year old’s version of fine art

rendered indecipherable without precise directions

just safety scissors and glue sticks with bites taken out

and markers that smell like various fruits left capless to dry out unused on the desk before me

little specks of color on the tip of my nose from sniffing them when i could have been penning another ode to her

a pile of cotton balls and unsecured insecurities

and a paper maché heart with a red stamp that says

return to sender

address unknown

leaking mercury onto the floor

soaking into my skin