i. When I was younger, I thought
heartbeats are supposed to always sound
like shattering glass, dashingly broken;
because whenever I come home,
mother was always lying on the floor—beaten
by my drunk & helpless father but
still utter the words i love you while awfully trying
to save her lips from drying out.

ii. My first love was careless
as his heart slipped from my hand;
the second was beautiful but
he said i held it too tight;
the third was an almost could have been
when i realized,
it is not supposed to feel almost,
it needs to be exactly there.

iii. I drove from a lot of holes inside
people’s chest and wondered why
I keep on getting lost.

iv. Mother died, father had gone demented.

v. I married the fourth, calling it my last
and my true love.
The heartbeats in my chest rhymes with
my childhood and so this is how it feels:
it doesn’t feel right.

vi. He comes home late at night,
perfumed with someone else’s touch
and utter the words i love you with the name
I never knew.
So this is how it feels:
it doesn’t feel right.

vii. I got lost in the tunes of broken heartbeats
and forgot this is love I have etched on my chest.
Heartbeats come from fuel, and love is the fuel.
So this is how it feels when love goes wrong:
it doesn’t feel right
.

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