Aphrodite’s Disaster


She burned the box devoted to him,

And scattered the ashes in his car.

Hiss —

Irises flared in heated rage,

As she hugged her knees in the backseat.


He broke the window to her bedroom,

And stumbled through on drunken legs.

Thud —

Trembling knees cracked on wooden boards,

As he dropped his head to the mattress.


She found their picture in the glovebox,

And clutched the print with bloodless knuckles.

Rip —

Smirk and smile mocked falling tears,

When she tore their faces to pieces.


He saw the frame upon the nightstand,

And seized it with a strangled laugh.

— Crash —

Glass shattered, denting white plaster,

When he threw their love across the room.






She clawed his skin as he crushed her heart,

And Aphrodite sobbed from her throne,

As her masterpiece fell to Hades.

– kh.

March 2017 | Placer County, California

My Heart

I kept my heart in a box.

Every morning I’d open the lid and wind it up. It would creak and whizz, as if it would soon shudder to a halt, but it never stopped running, and it always kept me alive.

Until, one day, it was gone. The box lay empty on my bed as I thrashed the room, searching high and low. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I fell to the floor, screaming.

Who would take my heart?

I waited for death, but it never came. Then I heard a soft whisper.

“Look up.”

So I raised my head and gasped.

You held my heart in your hands.

~ Hoài-Linh