If you wanted my heart,

you didn’t have to rip it out like that–

you could have cut it out

 

just gut me

slice me

take every part of me

run the blade softly over my skin

like your tongue used to do,

cold metal caressing my flesh

remembering all the secret spots

your mouth and hands knew best

 

then just dive right in—

carve me up like a Thanksgiving turkey

spread me wide like a fucking wishbone

devour my flesh

savor my blood

suck my bones like spare ribs

eat my organs like gizzards

my lungs

my liver

 

you wanted my heart

so take all of me;

give my death some semblance of meaning

eat me

squeeze every last drop of blood

from my heart as though it were still beating,

and when you’re full and satisfied afterwards,

picking the unwanted bits out of your teeth,

at least do it

with feeling

By Cynthia Ruth Lewis