Butcher

The perception of happiness to me
Is beyond parallelity
With a slight of the lips
To a smile from ear to ear
Neither decided by fact or fantasy
The cackles and cries swimming through my ears
And I, too, cackle!
For when I am revealed, I will howl with laughter!

I merchandised my soul
And with it my unrestraint  
The butcher with a thousand hearts
Yearned for but a single more
To which I gladly supplied
Though in seeing my delight
Fancied the heart of that, in kind
And so righteously purged it from my chest

And so the burden of recovery is laid
Bound about my neck
So that if I were so fortuitous
As to unite with that butcher again
Acquire his blood-laden cleaver
And bury it forth into his ragged scowl
Not a mere time, but a thousand
Continuously fissuring apart his skull
Surges of fresh carnage baptizing tiled walls
Wild eyes truly bloodshot
Leaving a sickening mash of mutilated brains and fragments of bone
Quivering, piled underneath two spotless eyes,
To watch me choke
Upon swallowing the beating heart of my happiness again