Glue lipstick

The heart was lying there on the floor. He could feel it from where he was sitting, even if it wasn't inside his chest. It was getting hard to breathe, but he could feel it like if it had been right underneath his skin. It was sort of shrinking, like when you get very, very immensely nostalgic. Things were running through it, he could see the butterfly waking up and leaving it behind like a used-up flower. He could feel all the words fly by like summer breeze. He stood up and walked towards it. His feet were getting lighter, the kind of cat walk you do in dreams. He slowly took the heart in his hand. It was warm and sticky, like he always had been himself. The kind of heart that doesn't slip away from your fingers easily. He squeezed it a bit, and saw the colors drip off. Small lakes started spreading on the floor around his feet. The window was open, and the fresh air was dancing around his eyelashes. He breathed in and looked down on the floor for a second. When he looked up again it was gone. He'd thrown it away. The heart was flying as fast as a spaceship towards Orion. And the ground let him go.