The Frozen Heart
Sometime, somewhere, I went wrong. I let my heart out of my chest and you didn’t hold it. It laid there on the ground, pumping blood to leaking veins connected to now, nothing. But was once me. My energy to walk on my own. My ability to breathe by myself. My strength to trust and love completely. And now all of this is slowly bleeding out onto the ground below my feet. My heart lay on the ground broken and losing the last minutes it has to live. And now, so am I.
There are things that dig into me like a spear through my spine. But I hide the crime and figure out how I could sleep tonight. With nothing right in my life you’ll never find all the times that I’ve cried and the number of times I’ve died.
Without a Picture
I know you won’t read this unless it had a picture. Because lines that turn into letters just isn’t enough. You wouldn’t read it unless it was a forbidden message. Because only rebellion intrigues your mind. You want something that stimulates the mind, not makes you think. You’re more into jokes than into what’s real. You won’t have the ability to read this because only this makes you think, even though an idea will last longer than a laugh. Now that you think to yourself that you really can’t attention to this, you realize that you don’t pay attention to people as much as you should. You now know that what people say isn’t always what people are. Some people say a lot of jokes, yet they can’t see a light into the next day. The person in your class that everyone considers a teacher’s pet is really looking for an adult that they can trust because they can’t trust their own mother or father. The kid that drinks tequila a lot only drinks it because that is the only way that they can connect with their family. But there isn’t much you can do to help if you’re only looking for their picture, and not their words.