My Upside-Down Heart
They said my heart was upside-down, so I’d never live the same. They said less blood would flow to my empty skull. Well now my empty skull is full, and my blood is overflowing from my eyes and ears and mouth. My cheeks are stained red with the natural blusher. I have nowhere to put it except everywhere. I dye the world with myself, I run around leaving trails of bright red paint. I am a fountain of life, bursting with blood at the seams. I live in a universe of scarlet and magenta, and they said I’d never live the same.
They said my heart was upside-down, so I’d never laugh the same. The blood would flow to my throat and I would choke. But it’s my pink teeth and my pink gums that shine bright in the sun. It’s my heart-shaped tongue and strawberry uvula that shake and wiggle as I giggle. It’s the lipstick smudges and juice punch stains that glisten. I laugh just fine. I laugh more than fine.
They said my heart was upside-down, so I’d never love the same. They said the blood would rush out and away from my heart and it would die. It did. Now my heart is a candied apple, rock-hard and sweet. But that won’t stop me. Honey gushes out of the valves into my body and fills my up and keeps me warm. It spills out onto the floor and onto everybody. The pink-yellow mix crawls into every crevice, every corner. Places where only cold existed are filled with my life, my laughter, my love. And they said I’d never love the same.
I never did live the same. I never laughed the same. I never loved the same. But will an upside-down heart stop me? Will it stop you?