I am not great for myself
I keep my heart sick-
Or, my love does-
Spoiled perfectly with that
Rancid formaldehyde solution
The cat knocked over in the attic,
Before its life ran out
And chilled my poor kitty’s heart with poison
Lapped up with a parched tongue-
The poison that preserves my life
To keep me less than living,
A little bit less every day that
My healthy heart
Immortal
Floats in whatever jelly jars were left over from auntie’s garage sale
Their sugary contents rinsed out and filled full with mine-
Why, they can’t be but a few feet behind my neck
But these clay eyes only look
Pretty from a distance, and
My neck cannot crane to see
What this stuffing has replaced