My girlfriend’s heart is a tiny robot dinosaur that wants to rule the world. It is a horrible, hateful thing, that despises all human life, yet it is also the only way her blood will continue to circulate. 

She won’t tell me how she got it. It seems expensive. 

Sometimes it lives in her chest, all curled up and docile and sleepy. Other times it marches around the neighbourhood, like a tiny tyrant, bullying small birds and biting at the neighbours. 

It does not like the rain. 

It sings sometimes, late at night. Sad little songs, about wishing all humans were dead, and songs about what an all-robot-lizard parliamentary system would be like.

Sometimes I record the songs, and post them on youtube. Nobody likes them.

It is not a good little robot dinosaur. It does not like people, and it does not wish us well.

But it is the heart of the woman I love the most. The centre of her being.

So I try to be understanding.

About the evil mechanical dinosaur, that is my girlfriend’s heart.