This is a one shot I thought up one day while taking a break from typing Brushing Fire. I wasn't sure what to make of it when I first edited it, lol. I still don't. I wasn't sure what the rating should be. T or M? I kept contemplating the importance of a heart in the KH universe. This is what my mind threw up =). There's two poems in this one shot. Read it however you like to. Hopefully it won't be confusing! Enjoy.
Freezer Burn
I
Your fingers grip the handle of the freezer door.
The freezer hums a near-death lullaby, rough and throaty.
It's empty of frozen dinners and your frozen heart,
which Axel, your ex-roommate, four year old crush,
and eight year old best friend, dumped in the trash a week ago.
II
Axel had visited, cleaning your kitchen after finding the sink filled with dirty dishes,
the floor needing to be mopped, and the fridge nearly empty.
He was surprised, commented jokingly how you've always been the clean one.
He hadn't noticed the organ hiding behind the frost bitten steak,
and the empty tub of mango ice cream, dumping them all in the trash bag.
You want to check if your heart thaws in the summer heat
beneath cracked eggshells and ripped cereal boxes.
You had gathered the courage to tell him you loved him a year ago,
had readied yourself to give him your heart. However,
finding your roommate in the kitchen between the slender legs of a blond girl,
whose name still escapes you, didn't seem the best moment to say anything.
A few weeks later, she kept coming over. Axel laughed at her corny jokes,
let her beat him at video games, played with her hair, burned her dinner,
and kissed her lips more than he ever kissed you, which wasn't at all.
Where had this woman come from anyway?
You don't stop to pick up your cell phone in the hallway,
forgotten on the table, the screen blinking with eight missed calls,
and the key connected to a blue number thirteen key chain.
You simply open the door and leave, bare feet padding against the ground.
You walk towards the driveway, hands sweaty, legs heavy.
For a few moments, you adjust to the closed eyes of the sky,
hoping it will blink its way to morning for some sunlight.
Then Axel started staying at her place a couple of days at a time.
At home, he talked about how amazing she was at baking but terrible at cooking,
how she could tie a cherry stem into a knot with her tongue,
and how sexy she looked in baggy jeans and a bra.
At the end of the driveway are two garbage bins:one blue and one brown.
The lids are off, each bin overflowing, their bellies full with trash bags.
Months passed and the cardboard boxes came.
You approach the brown bin, eyes narrowing,
and rip the trash bag open.
Axel packed his magazines, games, and clothes,
excited about moving in with his girlfriend.
You had watched him and said nothing. This all felt too fast.
The smell of rot and mold makes you want to vomit.
You kick the bin to the ground, watching the contents scatter.
Dragging the rest of the bag out, you search; overcooked rice digs into your nails,
sugar sticks to your hands, and plastic wrap smudged with butter cakes your fingers.
You see it, the hills of your heart covered in uneaten cereal and milk stained.
You were left in a house growing decrepit and old,
unread letters and bills stuffed in the mail box.
You sat on the couch, staring at a blank television screen,
hoping to see Axel sitting beside you in its reflection.
You sat at the kitchen table, thinking Axel would walk through the doorway,
carrying a bag of your favorite cream filled donuts.
You miss the squeeze it gave when Axel smiled or touched you.
You realize that everything you think you feel may be fake.
You have been emotionless for weeks, the cavity in your chest aching.
You hoped for many things but nothing happened. You fell apart.
It had taken you years to be best friends,
but took his girlfriend months to snatch him away.
You lean forward and take your heart out of the trash.
The flies won't leave it alone.
You hold it to your chest and realize it's not beating anymore.
The summer heat must have cooked it too fast, the pulse burnt.
It stains your shirt red and you cry.
That's when you decided to hide your heart in the freezer,
refusing to trample on his happiness,
unaware that without it, your body would suffer.
You didn't want to feel the rejection, the hurt,
especially the unbearable feelings that had been burning inside your chest for too long.
The trash becomes illuminated by false lights.
You refuse to move, knowing what the lights mean.
Your conversations with Axel became less frequent,
less exciting until you weren't sure how to feel anymore.
He invited you to his place, to eat out, to watch a movie, to which you refused to all.
You stopped answering his calls all together, silencing the ringer on your cell phone.
You became tired and stopped taking your customary morning jogs.
You'd lie in bed for most of the day, unsure of why your body has become numb to everything.
A car door opens and slams shut,
the engine humming a near death lullaby, rough and throaty.
Axel calls your name questioningly. You dare not look back.
Your heart tumbles from your hands, unable to register your name on his lips.
Axel's presence closes in, his shadow illuminated on the garage door,
like a menacing monster, ready to eat you.
Axel calls your name again.
The day Axel threw your heart away, he asked questions.
Why wouldn't you answer his calls? Were you sick? Did he do something to upset you?
You didn't respond and he became frustrated. He pleaded with you to say anything.
You stared at him blankly, mouth stiff, unable to move.
Panicking, you grab random objects to cover the mangled mess of your heart,
realizing how sluggish your movements are.
He doesn't need to see how broken you've become.
Axel asks if you're alright.
You wonder how awful you smell, sinking deeper in the garbage, suddenly tired,
unable...to...hold yourself...up. Your breathing...slows.
He took the trash with him and walked out the door.
Axel rushes forward, uncaring of the garbage squishing beneath his sneakers,
and grabs hold of you, running his fingers through your spiky blond hair,
messier and limper than he remembers, your skin paler, asking what is wrong.
You...look at him, his face blurring, his arms warm.
You're glad you cannot feel the ache at seeing him again,
his catlike green eyes and wild spiky red hair as vibrant as you remember.
He is yours in this moment, his attention only on you:
what you've always wanted.
"I love you." Is what you managed to say to the closed door
and into Axel's chest.
Your blue eyes dull, lids lower, and your chest
stills