Schrödinger's Cat Poem by Harun Al Nasif

I know my heart is unlike others.
If you bypass it, you will see
just a fake form, not the real one.
Outside the ribcage
my heart is not my heart,
it morphs into a mere lump of meat!

And when enshrined on the altar,
beneath the embrace of breast
my heart is a fresh strawberry!
Just like Schrödinger's cat,
it dies when the box is opened!
But, once inside the box,
it simply jumps to life!
Though you remain uncertain,
as you can't see it with bare eyes.

Trust me, my heart doesn't run
with the heck of blood at all.
It is a fresh fruit, vibrant with love.
If you press it,
your hands will spillover rosy juice,
and will turn more vivid in color.

Here you are,
extend your hands:
I give you my heart.