Heart Attack

Of all the organs and bones and nerves in this body, 
Why the heart? 
Why would something as profound and deep and vast as love, 
Be compared to a muscle that only knows how to beat? 
Why would anyone think love is a heart that just pumps until it stops, 
When love also changes and destroy and heal and vanish and come back

Why the heart? Why not the hands? 
That grabs hold onto someone you could never let go
That can be mashed into a fist that destroys your soul
Seeps out your tensions with hard presses on your shoulder
Bleeds from paper cuts and glass shard splinters

Why the heart? Why not the tongue? 
When it lets you taste the things that only supposes to nourish you
Creates flavor out of the life you never knew
To be able to spur out the words in your mind when you could
Because isn't love being understood? 

Why the heart? Why not the lungs? 
When love is a constant giving and taking, inhaling and exhaling, saving and being saved
Why not the lungs?
If it fills you up with this air that that keeps you living,
Then reminds you to let go and leaves you empty
Then inhale and exhale again
In this relentless cycle of loving and losing
Hoping, for the right oxygen that is enough to make you not breathe again
 Why not the lungs? 
When it also drowns in the depression of failed love, 
Or suffocates when caged by a selfish order

Why the heart?
When beats are never enough to express feelings
When it isn't the only organ you can not live without
When it limited love into this four-chambered muscle
When love is always more than that. 

P. S. - This poem is initially intended to prove that I can write not just sad things. I guess I failed.