My Heart, My Love

Her eyes are dark,
Her laugh is deep,
Her innocence is oh-so sweet.
I wish I hadn't killed her then:
Took an axe,
hacked off her head,
buried her, while she still bled.
I kept her heart beside my bed;
it loves me well, though she's dead.

Now I'll always have her love -
without her nagging and her itchy perfume smell.
Sometimes, I wish I kept her arms as well…
So to hold me tight when the nights are long,
or to reach the radio when they play our song…

I stashed her body 6 ft. deep
but at times she still comes in my sleep.
She stands before me tall and thin
and asks me why I did her in.
"You see, my dear" I always say
"If there is one thing I've learned so far,
it is that to keep a lady's heart
you need a jar."
To that she never replies.

For her, my heart still skips a beat.
But her heart,
it beats no more.
It just sits there full of gore,
reminding me of different days.

I know she lies beneath the shed,
decaying there without her head,
though at times I can't but think
that this is how she'd choose to be.
Her presence is greater than before,
in every room and behind every door.
Forever together in Marital Bliss.