my heart

assembled in

crystalline flesh

made of garnet.

a rich man's

faucet,

pumping blood instead

of water.

each breath like

the tinkling of

glass windchimes

outside the door to

my apartment.

my heart.

but blood flows

too red.

the world is not ready

for maroon.

i am expected

to shatter

my garnet,

and replace it with

gold,

cold and unfeeling,

easier to manage.

replacing the semi-precious with value.

gold

will always be worth more

than a semi-precious stone.

maybe it's better

if i replace my blood with ichor,

and bleed gold,

becoming my own midas

and turning myself to gold

in order to sell myself off.

gold is worth more than garnets,

and so i shatter my heart

and reassemble it with veins of gold,

just the way they wanted me to,

filling my arteries

with artificial value.

i'll shine

for you

the way i'm

supposed to.