I beat to a rhythm. My life 

is valuable. I am solely 

responsible for you. But 

you shove waste 

through my pipes.

I work and work

is that not enough 

for you to care 

about me? Am I 

not valuable? 

Your blood races like a river

through my pipes. Rapids 

that twist and turn while it hits 

rocks with the rhythmic hum of:

Budum Budum Budum

I feed all the things 

vital to you. A river flows 

through me so that I 

keep you breathing. Is that not

enough? 

The same hand you 

poison me with, is the one 

that determines me. Place that 

same hand on your chest, 

and you are me. 

Your trash, bulky and hard, forges a wall in my river. 

Less and less 

blood pumps, my rocks aren’t hit,

and my rhythmic beat slows to 

a light hum. 

My river stops running. All

because you couldn’t stop 

yourself from mutilating

the one thing sustaining 

your life.  

I start choking. Without my river, 

I can’t keep going. Without my river,

I am dying. Soon, you can’t believe

I let you down. When you 

were the one to wound our relationship first.  

We are one. If I go, 

you go. If I stop, 

you stop.

So when I gave in, 

you couldn’t help but do the same.