A Heart Scorned, cut deep like a knife it slowly drips scarlet.
It has grown thorns.
It has turned cold, refusing any warmth. Struggling to beat to a lovely slow song.
Take your time with this broken heart for it only knows sad songs. Hesitant to embrace a faint touch.
It’s been so long since anyone softened its beats, soothing its rhythm.
Wholeheartedly holding it gently, whispering simple truths.
Cupping the crimson drip.
Gently plucking away slowly at every thorn.
Drawing a pure smile on a sad face.
No more silent tears. No more Heart of Thorns. It now beats to a love song.