i wear my heart on the outside
of my chest, on top of my skin
and some days
when i want to feel pretty
i braid the valves and tie them off
with a little pink bow
made of soft tissue
and blood clot jewels pressed into
the meat of it
and sure, my overcoats are ruined
by the stain it leaves
while i try to shelter it
from the harsh elements
of their winter words
but i’d much rather shop for new clothes
than hide it behind hollow husks of bone
and flesh