Hearts keep popping up in the strangest places lately. First in oil, now ice. Is the universe trying to tell me something? Should I bury mine deeper in my sock drawer? Or pull it out, polish it and put it back on display? Still unsure about that. The poem is inspired by the photo, by bits of the past.
My heart hurt
Heavy with sadness
I could not dispel
Rarely do I give it
It wandered of it's own accord
Split it's self between two
Two who tossed it away
Without a thought
One used it to wipe away false tears
Restored his treasured conceit
By stomping it flat
Cruel laughter flowed from the other
Whether oblivious or intentional
Remained unclear
Miles and language were an excuse
Though not the best
The foolishness
Was all mine
My heart hurt
Time to hardened it
Again
Freeze it solid
Tucked it gently
Firmly
Into the deep dark
Suspend the river of emotion's flow
Retreat to a superficial life
Hidden from the unknown
From possibilities
In their world
Not of it
I am frozen
Alone.
©Solange Noir 2011
Frozen hearts I know.... Never let your heart freeze. Let it burn. The burning may kill you too of course but surely better to go out in a blaze of wild passion than in ice? :)
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