May the rest of your organs fail.

You're God damn right I'm fuming. I'm writing out of anger and talking out of anger and I don't want any of it taken with a grain of salt. I want you in my brain to experience first hand the screwed up shit I'm seeing and I want you to boil in my blood.

I want it too though. I gotta find a way into your being to explore what keeps you ticking. My choice of entrance would be the gaps between your teeth. I won't be able to breathe long though from the nicotine and bleach.

Next step is surviving the fall down your esophagus. If I make it down alive, I'll land face first into a pool of acid your stomach creates each time you forget to feel guilty or ashamed. Your belly does not collect the same abundance of sweetener as most would to fight the sour, corroding acids. It's a form of suicide, it won't eat away at your physical being, but instead your mental and emotional self.

The clock I'm searching for does not keep traditional time so I am in no rush. I am alive and I'm on a mission to prove the world wrong. This tin man has a chest and it plays a one man song. I'm out to prove everyone wrong. Contrary to popular belief, I've seen you weep and I've seen you fall to your knees. It's here, somewhere, I just need to find it. For my own sake I'll take the long way. I'd climb the disks in your back straight to the center but no disks exist where a spine once fit. Instead, I'll jump from organ to organ, steer clear of the lungs for obvious reasons and be sure to scale the left side of the ribs. Disorientation is prevalent when you're inside someone.

At this point, I'm starting to sweat. I should have seen signs by now that there is life here. Last tier, last rib, just one more closed door and I'll finally see what I've been waiting for. I made it. What's it like to feel someone else's beating chest inside your own?

Something is off though. I hear only my own beats. I even stopped mine to see if we were in perfect time. There was no sound though. I would swear we shared a brain at one point but I knew we never shared a heart.

Before finding entrance through your teeth, I borrowed, from her, the only set of keys. Here I am now at the space where it will be encased. I'm here to show each person in your life that you are a real boy, that you feel after all. My hands are shaking from nerves, mine and yours, and in fear that you also don't believe in your own core I'll unlock the door and scream from the top of your lungs.

"You need to see this as much as the rest of us do!"

Maybe it will remind you of the old you. Now, on 3.

1-2-3

The door swung open to reveal a cavity all cold and broken.

After all these years of trying to show the world that you own a heart of your own, you have proven me wrong again.