For e.e. Cummings

I carry your heart, I carry it with my heart
Do you carry my heart?
Do you have a heart?
What fills that gaping cavity, just a bloody organ pumping aimlessly. Do you look ahead? What do you see? Do I get to come with? Am I part of your plans? Or am I the familiar commodity you pack and take with every time you move like a misplaced knick knack. You don’t want it, your mother likes it, you don’t see a need to throw it away where can you find another piece to replace this jagged puzzle put together just so. Just keep me with the other misfit furniture in this hand me down collection until you can afford to trade up. And where will I be? On the used car lot? Gleaming at every perspective eye winking my blinker as they pass, honking my horn.
Or is this make and model too outdated too overdated too battered and used for even the selection of rejection on the conveyor belt I rest my engine’s useless the steering wheel’s locked, no defense against my impending impound
I smolder into the ground.