Eviscerate my heart for you, and I will sing a ballad of our love to my dripping blood’s tune. Strum along to the words I hum with the tender cords shaping my heart. Pulling a string or two surely won’t hurt, not when it is in the name of music. Listen to the phrases I utter in splendid canter even as you cage me with nothing but my stutter. Judge and define me from these words I speak, I shall be domesticated and even grow a beak. Then, I could whistle my song to you all day, never leaving the cage you made. I should live content like this, a canary in her cage fed and loved each day. My song would be heard and my wings clipped. But which would be better? My love known and felt forever in song or freedom in the sky? The sky is not going anywhere, but you are, my dear. Every second you age older and no matter how loudly I chirp I cannot prevent the ending of your story. You too shall wind up in a cage. Wooden and dark, it bears little resemblance to mine. I doubt you will even hear me squawk.
Eviscerate my heart for you, and roll around in my blood. Maybe Erzebet had it right, maybe she knew about life. With my dying breath I will sing a ballad of our love to the aching sound of the floor. I hear it creak and groan as you shuffle your feet. The door opens and closes to reveal your face. I begin to sing. Your smile is the only light in this place. Listen to me sing. You sit and listen before telling me of your day.
Eviscerate my heart for you, maybe then my song would ring true.