The cold hearted are only granted loneliness,
If they choose to never believe a soul.
Begging for a lost touch,
Eyes searching in the dark,
Yet only finding themselves.
She kisses the air she wishes he was here,
Caressing his hips that aren’t there,
She whispers sweet nothings to no one.
Haunted by her eternal anger,
Denying the world of love.
Yet longs for it, all the same.
Testing the grounds for truth,
Finding only dirt.
She’s the cold heart that lives in your soul,
Granted heartache, and hatred.
No one will hurt you but yourself.
Each heart beat grows longer, yet more rare,
She’ll never realize her on-going life,
Since the only thing she’s contemplating is death,
Like if she thought about it, it just happened.
And she’d continually be lost in thought forever.
The hatred drained her of love,
Leaving her cold-hearted,
Only allowing loneliness to hold her.
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