An Arrested Cardiac

I think my heart is broken—

it’s not feeling well. It’s not

stepping in other people’s shoes

or seeing from their point of view

like it used to. Its fire

has been encased in a sheen

of ice—bizarre, unwanted,

uncaring. Numb. The ice is

bitter and piercing. Angry? I’ve

never been so angry before, and

not for so long.

I’m not sure what brought this about—

I have some theories, but

they don’t explain the whole picture.

And I’m not sure how to fix it.

But I must fix it. Or else

the fire will dissipate

never to return

and then

I’ll

die.