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“My Heart is Beating Me into Submission”

My heart has teeth, my heart has thorns.
All who love know how a heart can be torn.

Some hearts are stolen, some are steeled
Against possible theft, and alone, left,
Are broken just the same,
From never being touched at all.

I’ve tossed mine, like confetti, from a church steeple.
I’ve lost mine, like a fool with gold.
I’ve thrown mine, like eggs, at people,
But I’ve not owned mine, nor has it been sold.

Some hearts are callused, like hands that slave
Morning, noon, and night, to have what they crave.
Other hearts are worn thin,
Giving all yet unable to win.

My heart is beating, beating without permission.
Beating me, beating me,
Beating me into submission.

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