you bought my heart
paying with pennies smushed on the train tracks
and two dollar bills
and then carelessly left it out in the sun
to dry out like a raisin
and even though I washed it out in sea glass tears
and wrung it out with indiscretion
I couldn't make it beat again
so now I'm writing down our histories
on my bedroom wall
how we both shrunk in each others' shadows
and how we discovered that I'm a good kisser
and you're a fast learner
and soon you had me trapped in your knotted thread of words
a fly in spider's silk
the more I struggled
the more tangled I became
not to be released until I was drained
and drain me you did
made me wish I could forget to think
and I'll bet
that if I had a penny for every time you thought of me
I would be a poor poor woman
but I would still set every one along the train tracks
so that if you walk by and find them smushed
you will have no choice but to stop
and reach in your pocket for my shriveled, worthless heart
and think of me