I tear out the strings of my heart,
One by one, two by two, three by three,
Thinking that so long as I can survive it,
Then it is a sacrifice I’m honoured to make.
Because I’ve been taught that love
Is like a wooden sculpture, I am the block,
And if I chip away at the excesses of my heart,
Then you’ll be able to handle this, my heart, me.
– – – – –
I’ve stopped looking in the mirror,
All I see is a shell.