So be it
#100DaysOfWriting – Day 43
“What a cold, cold heart.”
You looked at me,
And that’s all that I could see.
An aloof, perhaps fearful glance.
The suicide of anything that resembles a chance
To come closer.
“Let your walls crumble,”
I hear your eyes beseech.
“Let me in, let me touch you,
Let me reach
Your soul,” they say.
But your silent words are met with silence;
With a cold, cold heart
That knows not but to be a tyrant.
There is warmth beneath this cold skin.
There is passion, even desire for sin.
Skin hides more than what you cannot see,
But, if ‘a cold, cold heart’ is how you think of me,
Then so be it.