Antique Heartbeats

This chaos in my chest has no wheels. So how do I move on when my motor skills have stalled? You, were the treasure underneath my skin. Now there’s a coal mine within me; my lungs are filled with carbon. It’s dark inside but they say pressure make diamonds. I’m all choked up, spewing black clouds of exhaust fumes at every sputter of your name. It’s too easy to romanticise the past and too convenient to label them vintage. What I’m really trying to say is, take this wheel and lead me home; to where my first love resides.