My heart's heavy like sand. You heat it up and then it just turns into glass. It's easy for you to smash. The wreckage is on fire; melted and twisted iron. Wood splintered and chipped with one hundred nails stuck in it. I choke to talk to you. I choke to look at you. You're a piece of string in my throat. My face is like a map; you see where you are at an X for, "You are here between my eyebrow and my ear. Just a tiny mole." You see it? From up close, a picture of your face tattooed on my face.