AFTER MY HEART ❋ Chuck Young

my heart is 80% water, 20% pastel goth.

my heart is a house filled only with furniture-shaped ghosts.

my heart is a fuchsia-haired eighteen year old ballerina with a daisy
behind her ear and a penchant for snuff films biting her lower lip
seductively while talking about how old she thinks leonardo
dicaprio is.

my heart is method acting as flirting.

my heart is a t-shirt you wear in the ocean while on vacation with your
in-laws.

my heart is a happy madison production.

my heart is a dick pic you send to the last number you have in your
phone for your high school girlfriend the night you learn your
mother died that most likely shows up on the screen of a stranger.

my heart is an article called What We Toke About When We Toke
About Drugs written by a total piece of shit.

my heart is a sugar ray song playing from inside an air-conditioned
mcdonalds while the summer time heat of your tiny town blurs
against the windows.

my heart is an actor always preparing for various roles but never
knowing what the roles are and the movies almost always end up
being shitty.

my heart is a hot air balloon flying low through a small town and the
people in the basket are partying and the balloon hits a tree and
eventually power lines setting off multiple breaker explosions and
the townspeople below rejoice in the rain of sparkle and several
people are severely burned.

my heart is 80% water, 20% soft grunge.

my heart is a daily horoscope for aries that says the moon is in scorpio
all day and also has its period.

my heart is a sleepless night spent flushing bugs down the toilet with
motel hands.

my heart is a comparison you make between a homegirl not e-mailing
you back and the scene in goodwill hunting where ben affleck shows
up to pick up will but he’s not there and he gives that dumb little
emotional half-smirk because it’s all he’s ever really wanted.

my heart is a quick music question that asks if anyone has ever seen
sigur ros and sugar ray in the same room.

my heart is a twitter account called SadDadTurdsday where a middle
aged man just clinically logs his BMs.

my heart is a youtube video that has 24 views called “sadness is
beautiful loneliness is tragical” that is just a slideshow set to
“disarm” by smashing pumpkins showing the same girl sometimes
gothed sometimes ungothed where you don’t get choked up until
about two minutes in when there’s a hover hand.

my heart is the call you make to a hotline where you say, “i’m going to
kiss myself” because you need to be taken, seriously.

my heart is a bumper sticker that says my other car is a cunt asteroid.

my heart is an emoji that somehow means glycerine by bush.

my heart is the vanilla sky filter on instagram that makes everything
look like someone could love you eventhough you’re horribly
disfigured but surprise surprise it’s just a lucid dream you’ve
constructed while cryogenically frozen, you idiot.

my heart is a bouquet of flowers you send to yourself with a card that
just says “you slept.”

my heart is an app that when your life turns to shit reminds/notifies all
your friends/contacts that they should call you when they’re doing
anything, that time is all you have for the first time in a decade.

my heart is 80% water, 20% yolo teen.

my heart is the theory that states if an orgasm is truly a little death like
the french say it is then there must also be a little rebirth in there
somewhere. and that’s pretty good.