Pretty Heartattacks

I tried to forget, but you grew roots around my ribcage and sprouted flowers just below my collarbones…all day I pluck their petals, but I have not ascertained…whether you love me or not…

My heart’s a prisoner to my ribs…

“The first woman was created from the rib of a man. She was not made from his head to top him, nor from his feet to be trampled on by him, but out of his side to be equal to him.”

“I would just love to rip you open and wear your ribcage as a hat!”