Tangerine

Eleven forty-five

I ate my heart

Out my chest

Watched it congeal

Squirm

and bloom

Around my fingers

Clinging for life

It leapt around the room

Dripping blood

As it flew

Then it fell

At first chance

I grabbed

That heart

Ripped the mess

Apart

Ate each sector

(Still warm)

Piece by piece

Until

at last

It only beat

As a blood trail

Ingrained in the carpet.