written in response to Sadje’s #Whatdoyousee

What turns a heart blue?

Why does it bruise so easily when it once pulsed

with the red blood of vitality?

Was the heart a victim of its own empathy?

Did it succumb to life’s harsh realities before becoming

infused with the ice of a world devoid of humanity?

Or was the heart torn from the protection of its rib cage for fun by callous hands?

And yet, even when bruised, a kind heart knows not how to

“unfeel” anything.

So it is with cruel irony that it still beats, even when the blade of brutality

dissects it on a plate.

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