Your Heart is just a Muscle

In your hand is a sponge.

Saturated, heavy with water.
It drips down your wrists,
between your fingers

When you can't hold it
any longer,
you squeeze it
and it feels so good.

You do it again,
water pours out,
but it is not as satisfying.

Now it is only moist.

You wring it in your hands,
until you tear it's fabric
and hurt yourself as well.

Now what you have left,
is only a DRY sponge.

Just a sad, dried up sponge.

So you throw it away,
and ask yourself

What could possibly feel that good?