my organs have no autonomy

My body isn’t made of rubber.

I could’ve sworn that skin was a rubber wrapped around a skeleton that stretches so tight, you would think it’s about to snap, but instead lends a window into the body of the person it envelopes. I could’ve sworn that passing strangers could see my heart throwing itself against my skin, trying ardently to escape, like meat in a vacuum pack, and that I’m gasping for air that’ll persuade it stay. It’s not that bad in here, is it? I heard in its plead for help that the brain has overridden the otherwise autonomous pacemakers— that the brain is taking over the heart.

They’ve always been quite the dramatic, afraid of its own rhythm, or better, the lack thereof. A bit of a stubborn character, that heart. They think everything is out to get them, that the over inflation of the lungs will crush them, or that the brain is telling them sweet nothings, because the brain has a tendency to tell them what they want to hear. The heart knows better now.

JUST BECAUSE YOU SAY WE’RE NOT DYING DOESN’T MEAN WE’RE NOT DYING. DO YOU HAVE A BARORECEPTOR? DO YOU HAVE SYMPATHETIC INNERVATION?

Do the strangers passing by see the inflation of my skull, like a balloon welling up with air it can’t contain? Do they see the brain matter seeping between the sutures? The brain, brimming over the edge with pent up agitation, but with nowhere to release it. Because the heart is a fragile organ, though they’ll never let you see it— only the brain is privy to that. It takes a toll to repeat yourself over and over and over and over…

you’re not taking up too much space. no one is paying attention to you, you’re putting too much emphasis on your impact on others. no one cares, i promise.

Oh, the heart really hates to hear the ‘promises’. Last time they believed that little number, my voice was actually a decibel too loud, the heart could feel the swift turn of heads. Did they tell you about their sympathetic innervation?

I’M GONNA GET OUT OF HERE. I CANNOT CONTINUE TO CIRCULATE BLOOD FOR SOMEONE WHO CAN’T LOOK THEIR PEERS IN THE EYE.

The brain is co-dependent and anxiously attached. They can’t survive without the heart, my god, they would rather just die. Albeit ironic, the two of them really can’t live without each other, but if you ask them, they’ll just deny it. The brain would truly be mortified at the sight of blood pouring out my thoracic cavity and a deflated pericardium. So they sound the alarms, to alert the lungs of the heart’s daring escapade. The lungs will inflate and deflate as fast as they can, competing with the heart to see who can run the fastest. The lung has been training for this after all.

YOU’RE MESSING WITH MY BARORECEPTORS. THERE’S NOT ENOUGH BLOOD.

Silly of the lung to think it could ever outrun the heart. Their race only causes the rubber to tighten. What was this event called? 500m sprint with 400mph wind resistance? No escaping for you, heart!

Someone asked if they could take my chair.

HEY IN HERE! HEART HELD AGAINST THEIR WILL! HEART HELD AGAINST THEIR WILL!!

The stranger paid no mind to the screaming, almost as if they were preoccupied with their own. They didn’t look at my chest once, didn’t cock their head at the sight of my sternum splitting, or brain pouring out my ears. The heart tends to settle down when the reality that no one can see them, and therefore no one will save them sets in— when the heart settles into the brain’s Stockholm syndrome.

Perhaps the heart is a rebellious organ in everyone, or perhaps the body is not made of rubber.