Organ Donor

I like to wonder about the end of the world

not the Earth per say

but the world that exists between the time

I am conceived

to the the time

the little heart will stop beating

 

Maybe that's why I want to be an organ donor

as selfish as it may be

 

to think my heart will never stop beating

rather it will fly from the space in my chest

to the space in someone else’s

 

To think that my heart will know the constellations

carved in the backside of my ribcage

and still the stars in their

and my heart will make new constellations

and carve the stars togethers with it’s chisel

tap tap tap with every thump thump thump

 

And my heart will know how it used to shout

scream at my brain

when I sat at the bottom of the pool for too long

and it will do the same thing for it’s new set of lungs

act as it’s personal fire alarm

 

To which I say good!

yes, please!

protect their body like you will have protected mine!

 

But I’m scared my heart will forget

forget the way it harmed into my ribs when I scored that point

forget the way it jumped when I went into a haunted house

forget the way it fell into my stomach when I failed that test

forget the way it grew wings and soared as my name was called at graduation

 

Maybe that why I don’t want to become an organ donor

as selfish as it may be

 

Those moments are mine

like how eyes crinkles when I look into the sun

or how my shoulders tense at scary movies

or how my knees ache after running

 

I’m scared that my heart won’t stop beating

But my world will end

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741