While walking home from work one day
in the rain
I encountered a lump of mutilated flesh
on the side of the road
although I should have looked away
I marvelled at the glossy sheen of the membrane
surrounding it and watched the
last drops of living blood ooze
syrupy out of its crushed ventricles.
The blackened sting of the bits of gravel
around into its spongy
processed strawberry yoghurt pink
made me wince with an all too recent tenderness

and as I lifted my boot to nudge it out of my way

I saw something just a little too familiar
in the edges of its shape
so I looked down at the craterous wound in my chest
and realised it was my heart
still lying
mashed into the tar
where you’re thrown it, crushed it
when you left me


by Abbi van den Berg

Comments (2)

That poem's cute! I like poems with hearts in them!
What membrane? If your heart had a membrane, no wonder he didn't get through. An emesis basin will be used next reading. H