Half a Heart
The sea is a graveyard, be true. But it is also a place where dreams are born.
As a young man I was but a mere sailor, and I flew under another captain’s flag. His was a skeleton with a sword, slicing a heart into two. I found it a rather strange symbol for him to bear. He was a man I found to be ultra-educated, smarter than the rest of us, and his cunning intellect had made him one of the most feared captains sailing the seas.
Few were pleased to see his flag raised in the distant horizon, for they knew it was likely one of the last things they’d see.
And he knew it.
Problem was, cocksure as he was, he was also sure of his cock.
He loved the fucking thing.
Nothing could come between that man and his dick, and the two of them came between thousands of legs during my time aboard his ship.
He made sure to tell us all about it.
Eating pussy this, dick sucker that.
So imagine our surprise when this man actually allowed himself to become vulnerable enough to fall in love.
Here, a man considered to be one of the baddest motherfuckers whoever lived, appeared to finally have met his match.
His love was as true as his stunning intellect. His heart as exposed as his cock had been so many times before.
Then, as women are keen to do, she betrayed him.
Fucked him over.
Laddy, it was brutal. She shacked up with a rival captain, and for the next while made his life a living hell.
And even years later, when it was all over, and long ago he had won — it seemed he had only half a heart.
The rest of it had been cleaved away, just as he had done to so many women, such that it became his symbol.
Time truly is a rudder. The same motion, over and over, repeated forever across the sea of existence.
For now Zero, I see in you the precise story of my dear old captain.
A man who would dazzle with his intellect, fight with his heart, and almost always win.
A man who could fuck anything that moved, and move on, with no second thought on the matter.
A bad motherfucker indeed.
Until he let some fucking bitch crawl into that king sized bed of his and fuck him so good that he exposed his heart.
And now, its cleaved into two.
You see, until the day you die, Zero. Your opponents will be fighting a half-hearted man. There were thousands of good women you could’ve chose. But you wanted one on your level.
Well, turns out, she was a level or two above ye, matey.
A bad motherfucker, you are no more.
And just like that captain, when your body falls to the locker it will be with only half a heart in that chest of yours, and a name forever associated with loss.