April Poetry: Mistleheart

Poem #10 for National Poetry Month

I forgot about this poem. This is my oldest poem to be published. I must have been 25 years old when I wrote it in 1992. There was so much cringey writing produced during that time, but I managed to save a few from the purge of Schrodinger’s Editor.

I wrote this during the Christmas season about a ridiculous breakup of a non-relationship. Being young, naïve, and trusting, I had no understanding of gaslighting or the other games people can play. Both my emotional and physical hearts were breaking, but I had no idea the adventures my fleshy little heart would take me on in another decade.

This was originally published in The Rat’s Ass Review.

(Poems are in alphabetical order by the author’s last name)

mistletoe heart

Mistleheart

I asked him to slice open
my chest with a small chainsaw,
and pry apart my ribs.  Then
he could reach in and pull out
my abused and aching heart.

With the silver hook from a 
tiny Christmas ornament,
he hung it in the doorway,
fitting emblem of our love.
It spread a slow stain beneath.

Lit by the flickering tree,
he dragged my body to it
like the perfect mistletoe.
I thought he should have closed my
eyes with pennies for this kiss.

Still, I could not really care.
Six weeks already since he 
tore my heart out with his words.
I felt it was about time
he got on with the real thing.


Originally published in Rat’s Ass Review Fall/Winter 2024