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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Emotional >> ID #1156949 |
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~A Cold Soul~
I’ve tried to understand the little things that I’ve had with a broken hand and a bleeding eye tears come hard for one who doesn’t cry. I watched as my father was lowered down the blood I’ve had was spilt to the ground a lonely display of my affection. And if my heart was open then maybe they would see this cold soul who is the real me with a pain in my chest and a cramp in my wrist I’m lying awake on the floor twisted and broken with the blood trickling down my eye I’m not sure that I care anymore.
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