Shikast God put a light in my heart but He had to break it first — I had to break it for His sake — my heart had to be broken for Him. When I started to break my heart it was hard and cold like lignite (coal). I had to chuck it on the grate where it fissured somewhat. Smoke started to come from the cracks - presumably some impurity — that had to be smelted off. It smelled bad. Then it started to weep a substance, I dont know what. A chemical tear pissed out of the rock. My chest cavity ached where my heart had been. I watch it splutter from my vacuity. Do I have to do this to myself? I asked God. Well, would I rather someone else tonged my heart with iron? I whacked it to see if it would split. It did. Funny that. Could you have broken my heart? You could have lifted my heart with your touch and rested it on some sweet surface — cushions, ermine, your lips. As you tenderly smiled and caressed it, my heart would have sighed and melted. No such luck.
Posted on: Sat, 08 Mar 2014 06:53:21 +0000
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