My heart feels as though it were made of clay. The veins and hollows of it have ceased to be easily moveable, and now? Now it just feels like it has begun to soak in the blood that readily runs through its inner walls. Figuratively speaking, my heart is drying up. Once it has made this transition of flesh to clay, it will be easily breakable. Like dust, it will crumble under the immense pressure of the love I am so desperately trying to fill it with.

When I take it into my own hands to give it repair, it will fall into tiny pieces around my ankles and feet. Then, it will be impossible to put it all back together once more.

Is there a heart factory? Somehwere that they make these hearts out of metal that "ping" instead of "thump" inside your chest? Or a heart made of stone? How fitting for a woman. Imobile, and stronger than the walls of each fortress that we extend- our stone hearts. But, what of boulders? They are cold, and sharp. They, too, break under the weary beating of the sun, and rain, and cold, and damp darkness that lurks into them just like it does the living. Stone is not fitting at all. Metal will rust, wood will rot, rock will turn to gravel, and ice into water. Flesh. Flesh scars. It heals over, and creates a new, tougher skin around it. So, already we are made of the most appropriate thing possible. Flesh.

I must force my clay heart to beat and beat until it wears away the cracked and moored surfaces. Back into flesh. Better. Stronger. A Fighter. I must teach the blood to grow thicker so that it no longer soaks into the interior. I must teach the chambers to beat dispite thier weakness- grow, grow, grow. Build, build, build.

And once it has consumed the clay? I will build a heart shaped box out of chrome, and fix it around the auricle forever. A perfect entity inside of a tiny metal casket.