What is it that stops a heart,
one that has already been slowed down?
What makes it yank on its own emergency brake
when it has already seen that pile of rubble
already driven around the junkyard in circles before
already pumped the hands that tried to salvage the scrap metal
that tried to recycle
that tried to digest
and abandoned the project when the scratches drew too much blood?
Sometimes the seat of emotion
has to take a seat
and it needs a cane to get back up.
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