Heart Pie

Act One:

Dark. Night. Light. A woman walks onto an empty stage. 

She maintains the empathy of the world. I feel the pain that is inside of you. Pour. Pour. Water pours. Water flows, knees bend, water rises. She sits. She looks out. The pain of the world rests in her belly, lava rests under its cracking ceiling. She hears a bell ringing. Female voices. In the distance. They call. They call. They stop. Silence. The woman kneels on the ground. Her heart is full. Radiation sweeps across the Pacific. Coming for the masses. Coming. Coming. Her heart swells. It swells and swells. And then.

Music. She stabs into her chest. She cuts around, around, around. Her heart resists, it grasps to her bones. She reaches in and digs. She ungulates. She digs and digs. She gets her fingers behind it, her heart swells, she tears it out. Beat of music as she slams it down on the ground, she presses, she kneads, she kneads, she needs, she takes out a roller and she rolls. She rolls and she rolls, she flattens, she flattens and flattens. She slowly slips her fingers underneath the flattened thing. It bubbles flat. She throws it high in the sky like a pizza, a pancake, a baseball, she spins it on her finger like a basketball, she lays it on the ground. She weeps, she weeps and wails, she weeps and wails, she pushes her tears and her wailing and her pain and the pain of the pain of the pain of the world onto the bubbling swelling flattened heart. She rages, she rages and she roars, she rages and roars and rips the ceilings from their beams, she shoves her raging onto the heart, the heart is filling as her roaring rages onto its roughness. At last she laughs, she laughs and she wails and she wails with laughter as her laughter leaps out to join her raging and her weeping, her laughter leaps and she lunges to catch it and cram it on to the plated flattened heart... That is enough... She closes it up into a pie. It's a pie! She opens the oven and puts her pie in and presses ‘ON’. She sits. She waits. She waits and waits. She waits for a moment and another moment. Her waiting bores her so she tries to do something fun WHAT’S FUN? BING! Her heart is done! It’s done it’s done oh what to DO?!!!!! Take it out take it out! OOO! It’s hot hot ooooo its hot! Shove it back in. Shove it back into the hole in my chest. I breathed out the pain of the world and I put it into a pie and I baked it and now I have to put it back into my chest but this time it’s baked. It’s warm. Ouch it’s too warm! It’s hot! OUCH! HOT! HOT! Sew. Sew it back in! OUCH! HOT! It swells. It swells. I sew it back into my chest and at last it is sewn... But... It swells! The pain and the anger and the love it swells, and as it heats together, it mixes and it seeps and it heats and heats. It heats my chest and now my arms, and now my fingers and my hearted heat stretches out through my finger tips and shoots across the world out over the water to the side from where there is light. It touches the light and travels back in the water. The heat of my raging, wailing, leaping heart roars into the waters and is evaporated up into the clouds. It swarms through nights and days and then thunders down a lightening bolt through the Arctic and breaks the sea in half. The world splits in two and as one side floats away into space, the other half flames and begins to burn blazing brightly like a sun. It grows brighter and hotter than the sun of all the suns. Its hot like the hot of the hottest heat my hairs stand up towards the heat of that sun started by that heart and all the galaxies bow down in wonder at the brightness and the brilliance of this sudden celestial sight. Then, it quiets. The blazing quiets. It stops and suddenly turns around and looks at the water to see its reflection. When it sees it’s halved blazing body, the burning world weeps. As it looks at itself in the water of the water of all the water ever watered, it weeps sweet blue tears and the tears dampen the burning fires of its broken, scorched, world body. The world is wet. It slips over itself. Its sidewalks dark with damp. It walks through itself with a heavy hat and mourns the days of its burning and wails for the loss of its other half, the love of its love of its life. All has burned from its burning. I too have burned. I too have blazed till my ashes muddy the wetness of my world. My ashes stain the shoes of this half-world as it walks through its half-self in this universe whose sun has been put to shame by the sudden burning ascension of an orbiting servant. Now that sun is back to its rightful rule. To be forever haunted of being overthrown again. But this world sits quietly in itself. Nevermore will it challenge. Such burning is too painful. It thinks back. How did I get here? How? Ouch. Ouch. I think it began with- Ouch. Heat. Hot. The source is gone but the ash remains, staining my half-worldly shoes and filling my nose with the sweet pie smell of the world’s chemical combustion.