Poetry

Cold Hearts

“Sometimes cold hearts can beat
when they prey on something warm.”

And it feels like a part of my heart was ripped out of my chest for no reason other than to see how much it would hurt. I suppose that’s what you have to be prepared for when you bare your soul to the world — not everyone will be there to offer you a safe place to rest when you are weary. Not everyone will give you shelter from the rain. And not everyone will offer you a blanket when you are cold. Because sometimes cold hearts can only keep beating when they prey on something warm.

© Sarah Doughty

And you took your fill.

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4 thoughts on “Cold Hearts”

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