Instructions in Case of Break-up

I tuck my body under sheets with no one beside me breathing needing no comfort of a cold pillow beside me to replace the heat from his body. With a new cut and newfound liberation and unike a budding writer peddling two-bit scripts or a virgin poet who doesn't know the difference between Plato and Play-doh, I rebuild my base stronger fortify it and for as long as necessary. I tuck his heart in an envelope mail it back first class with confirmation delivery as the order came defective with broken parts, parts unassembled, some lost in transit and translation the expiration date has expired. Gone. Went with the sideways looks and backwards glances. Gone with the soundtrack of silence on my IPOD. I tuck my heart in a poem with metaphors and stanzas as testimony because I can be alone without being lonely as I grow in wisdom with each lesson learned as each time I give 'me' away I rebuild better become the sentence structure for the sexiest story on the history of love. Period. These are the things I tuck in my mind with a pound of prevention and an ounce of common sense slipped in as I thumb through pages, playlists, poems, moments and memories and lines in between this one and that. I remove my heart tucked in a jar on display to break in case of an emergency or in the case of a break-up, download pure energy, pull the plug, recharged to full capacity, and peel it back like my daily orange opened up with the precision of a heart surgeon and anticipate the morning sun blaze across the sky like a cannonball, a citrus wedge wet on my tongue and where my smile becomes an instant facelift.