Organic You

and I purge out all of your emotions,
sort through them on the floor-
encase everything in you that is warm,
so that I may binge on your happiness

I choke out all the melancholy,
set fire to it all
I must polish up your pleasures
for the respiration of the soul

I decorate my mantle
with jars of your preserved heartache,
because I insist,
that this speculation is its only decay.

I draw a bath and soak in your compassion,
absorbing your service into my skin;
I draw amateur pictures
in the condensation of your mirrored pride.

Matchsticks will flare to ignite your serenity
and remind you of this hope
and as with most demonstrations of love-
I watch the waterless extinguishment of your anxieties

yes,
I purge your emotions,
I sort through them on the floor
and as you binge drink on your ego-
I hold all these signs,
hoping that you may expel what you don't need anymore