The Black Part of My Heart

I got out for awhile,
but so you're back.

You cling tightly around my heart,
like barbed wire,

making my blood struggle to get around the ventricles.

You're back,
making a part of my heart black.

I think it's the top right part,
but the pain's in the bottom.

But no, they're different things.
The pain's always there,

the pain of not being close to my family,
the missing,

the hurt.

The black's what's just returned.
That's how I know where I'm home and where I'm not.

When I'm home,
in the country my dad left over 30 years ago,

my heart lights up.
But when I'm home,

in the country I was born and raised in,
the black spot tries to take my heart over

and I have to fight to stay alive.