Slice a liquid heart and set it out to dry.
Sprinkle it with sugar and coat it with rye.
Freeze it with your touch and let the flavors soak through.
Set it in the oven and let it bake ‘til ten past two.
As you wait, ponder your thoughts over blood and knives.
Set aside your words that are sweeter than honey from bee hives.
Twirl your hair and stare into space and think about the past.
Now push those memories away and forget them, because good things never last.
Open the oven door and check on the heart to make sure the crust didn’t crack.
Now rinse away your guilty thoughts because it’s no use thinking about someone that’ll never come back.
Take out the burning heart and add a teaspoon of broken promises and lies.
Now set it on the windowsill to cool, but be sure to keep away the flies.
Mix together the spilled blood and your sweet honey.
Add a pinch of hope, now stir, but don’t let the mixture get too runny.
Cut out a piece of the heart and drizzle it with the sweetened purée.
Now add a scoop of betrayal to keep the eager watchers at bay.
Enjoy the heart all by yourself, and savor every bite.
Tell me how my heart tastes, because it’ll be gone by the end of the night.