Artificial Heartbeat Shayla Salamacha
Table of Contents The Four Types of Love…………………………………………………………Page 3 Part 1: Desire Desire……………………………………………………………………………Page 5 Secret Wishes……………………………………………………………………Page 6 Keep it Private..…………………………………………………………………Page 7 Part 2: Heartbreak Love Lost………..………………………………………………………………Page 9 LXIX……………………………………………………………………………Page 10 A Song…………………………..………………………………………………Page 11 Part 3: Manipulation The Orange………………………………………………………………………Page 13 To the Battered…………………………………...………………………………Page 14 The Only Question to Ask……………………………………………….………Page 15 Part 4: True Love An Ode to You………………………………...…………………………………Page 17 Above……………………………………………………………………………Page 18 How to be in Love………………………………………………..………………Page 19
The Four Types of Love 1 I am entangled by violet, and thorns brazen my sides. It comes to me as a murmur, piercing the sides of my brain. The thought is so breathtaking, it can only be dreamt. 2 Swirling sinful tunes suck the light from our eyes; we have been caught folded underneath the weight of a song that can’t continue on. 3 He was born with hands of lace, but they put scars on the ones he loved. Now as it turns out, I am spattered in pain. 4 I chase the stars. They lead me on a path of my dreams where we can travel through the galaxies forever. The constellations and the moon put me outside your door.
Part 1: Desire
Desire “The opposite of love is not hate, but indifference.”
mercilessly stunning the beating of your heart can not be felt through the thickness of your skin understanding me, my feelings, my love, my hurt, is not a part of your vernacular you drag me through fields of poisonous discussions but before they begin, you bind my lips together the question of my sanity is beginning to wither with each passing sunset curious of how you could be so vicious I wonder how you could be so destructive towards something that is supposed to be one the most lovely things in life but it no longer has the chance to grow after you have let it begin to rot my heart is like a seed and I am waiting for you so that my roots can begin to inhibit your soil “Love will find a way. Indifference will find an excuse.”
Secret Wishes I. I want to see his cursive. I want it in blue ink running along blue lines. I want the page to smell of him. I want the words to have no real meaning; the meaning should be symbolic. I want to be able to run my fingers on the prickly edges. I want the page to breath the words, I love you. II. In times when I feel lost and broken your heartbeat should touch mine and our chests should bind and bounce together. Your fingers should graze the outskirts of my palms and catch the tears as they try to lay within my skin’s cracks. III. My jaw will unhinge every time you walk thorough the door. My eyes will become glossed-over and my heart will begin to beat with an artificial sound. It will sound like metal collapsing then you will make the whole machine shut down. IV. The forever-collapsing world can cause a coarse existence. Looking into your projected eyes I see comets and nebulas, here to save me from the falling skies.
Keep it Private I remember the way it felt as if his body was going to fold inside itself. We’d walk down the city sidewalks with an unspoken line of distance between our hips. My presence made his head hang; he couldn’t look up at the world. He felt stuck between falling in love or falling into a debate about right and wrong. The color of his skin was no shade close to mine. The choices killed him. The way I felt his anger and shame coming off his body in a warm cloud killed me. I remember he told me we couldn’t hold hands. Not face to face with the rest of the world.
Part 2: Heartbreak
Love Lost
Excerpts taken from Don’t Let Me Be Lonely by Claudia Rankine
The one who forgives has a dying in the heart. But as it turns out, they have been dead. There is an absence in their hearts. Walking around with an artificial heart, evokes a heaviness. You can feel the weight of your heart on your heart. Makes you lonely, knowing no one could ever understand the fake heartbeat pumping through your body with all its vibrations. Loneliness, simply, is what we can’t do for each other. You must allow the loneliness in; so maybe death comes second. You are not dead once you find forgiveness, you are dead once you have found loneliness. Define loneliness. It’s what we can’t do for each other. Why are we here if not for each other?
LXIX
Imitation of Bucolics by Maurice Manning
do you ever feel lonely Boss like you’re just a little grain of sand in the desert everyone feels lonely sometimes Boss who can I have at night what can be presented to me on a silver platter I’ve been alone for quite some time now it’s almost as if the sun can only come up just because you make it Boss I’m waiting for the day the sun can come up because I’ve found the key to loneliness but just like the seasons people change and leave you lonely everything will be okay though Boss you know it don’t get too comfortable though Boss because like you’ve taught me Boss things can change so quickly
A Song You knew you loved her the day she broke your heart. The unison of your songs stopped following a beat and her tempo had slowed. Pollinated veins reach through your skin and bruises begin to bury themselves in your bones. You feel your tempo Bruising the insides of your body. A pulling in your body began to drag your heart up through your mouth eyes and ears. The world around you popped with a new glowing rhythm. It showed you all the possibilities. The light of the song scared you and you could hear your heart begin to crack.
Part 3: Manipulation
The Orange Days pass as droplets from my juices parade down the sidewalk’s cracks. Down the sidewalk’s cracks you stand there with your lush corneas, and they bury me in the dirt. I call out your name but the gesture is not returned. The favor is not returned. I have been left branded, strained, and withered. The soles of your shoes leave glass shards with each step. Leaving glass shards with each step, your love has left me pulped.
To the Battered Scattered roads you are lost upon can’t lead to love when it’s not returned. Nobody will tell you that there are thorns lodged in the sides of your head. The yellow sunlight is overcast. Cloudy like the mind he gave you. Your inner walls grow tired. With little to give the poison seeps in. Amounts of times your cheeks have wet can’t compare to his pink addictive lips. A sparkle in your eye is born. It comes with sewn lips and unsettling nights. The venom slips in a new crease. The walls thicken, and the clouds roll back. You spit the venom on the surface of his coarse skin. Let it soak in.
The Only Question to Ask Watching your plump fingers reach out to grab anything makes me nauseous. How could you have the capacity to aspire for something when you couldn’t even make room for me? Each day was as dirty as the last. My face was always greasy and moist because of my salted tears that traced the outlines of my lips. It felt like a sickness. It feels like a sickness. My heart and concentration are dressed in scabs and I’m itching to peel them off. You had me convoluting into a trashed pit where nothing seemed to happen other than me asking what I had done to deserve all the lies and all the times you spit poison down my throat. Everyday seemed to end in why?
Part 4: True Love
An Ode to You The words you mutter have no sense; I’ve made them into a convulsion of memories and clouded feelings. Sometimes you are so robust in the way you move and in the way you manage to come off as lifeless. The cold stares that you give to the world are overcast by the way you look at me. Your unpolished finish is transcended with a glow when your fingers are crossed with mine. It’s even beautiful how you could fit me into the gaps of your life when you can’t even make enough room in order to love yourself. You believe that existence is a polarized thing. I’ve come to make you see things with vibrancy. Love is forgiving someone. It’s being able to forgive them for things that would normally be the unforgivable in any other. I’ve forgiven you.
Above My leaves illuminated from the porch light, I have been dangling here through many snowfalls. Two have visited me all this season. Each time they approach his eyes are wide, and her cheeks are bright; I wish to stretch my vines and pull them in. The thought crosses their minds, I can tell, but they trudge down the snowy steps, leaving, falling short every time. After these times I know this brisk night will be the one because tonight they are glowing; radiating. In its due time comes the kiss. They collapse into each others’ heat, and almost right into the floor boards cracks. With faces bubbly and warm like the surface of hot chocolate, their fingers and palms intertwine, my veins relax and I go to sleep until next season.
How to be in Love you will wrap your violet incrusted finger tips around her waist and she will wrap her head up in you when she steps over your body you will look like a poem a poem she could never stop reading the world around you will attach your hips together and the gentleness of her skin will scramble all the memories you learned as a child you will feel her body concave at the sound of your voice when she cries in the dazed nights you will pull her close and remove the tangles from her hair the world around you will pollute the skies with an aroma of violet tulips reminding you of the touch of her hips Â