Without My Heart

I would look at my fingers
as you pull them from my hands,
one by one,
grabbing hold,
tearing
flesh from bone,
expressionless.
With unfazed eyes,
no wincing
no fighting
I'd watch them go,
with a face stone cold.

I would glance at my arms,
as you tore them apart,
ripped from my shoulders,
yanking,
breaking,
strands of muscle
hanging,
as is my head
with eyes still staring,
unfazed,
glaring,
I'd watch them go,
drop to the floor
with a face stone cold.

But my will may start to falter,
as I watch you take my feet.
I look down,
cutting me deep,
you continue to pull,
bleeding,
no longer able to stand,
kneeling,
closer to the floor.
Cold.
I'd still be watching you
with a face of stone.

And I think my eyes will swell,
as I see you take my legs.
Fallen to my back,
broken,
cracked,
bone to the floor,
cold stone.
But I'll still be watching you,
eyes still prone.

But oh how I will squirm,
and moan in pain,
when it is my eyes
you must take away.
I will hurt
I will burn
but my gaze still won't falter,
I will still face your way.

But then.....
But then.....
All my hope will surrender,
my will, no doubt, break,
when at last
it's my heart you must take.
Only then......
Only then will I scream.
Only then will I truly hurt.
Only then will my anguish
be too much to bear,
because,
only then will I succumb
to despair.

Because....

the truth is,
I don't need my fingers,
and can do without touching your soft face.

And the truth is,
I will get by without my arms,
and sacrifice your sweet embrace.

And the truth is,
I can make it with no feet,
and give up standing beside you.

And the truth is,
I'm alright without my legs.
I can live without kneeling before you.

And the truth is,
I can even yet survive
without my eyes,
losing the image of your lovely sight.

But without my heart.........
without my heart.....

my love dies.


-B. Stinga 2010