I have a caged heart.
A beating human heart, inside a black birdcage.
This is not the start of some bad poetry, this is in my living room. Naturally the heart is a replica…I mean, a real one wouldn’t still beat after so long ex vivo without perfusion, and then there is the incompatibility with my vegetarian lifestyle, not to mention the pesky moral and legal implications. I get some interesting reactions from people when they discover this dark corner of my house.
I’d rather have this than some stock figure from ikea.
(not that I’m dissing ikea…the birdcage is sat on an ikea cabinet for goodness sake)
“And yes it seems as though I’m going nowhere really fucking fast.”
pickledsparklymooseduchess 