Black Heart

Beating with hope so full of life
Blow after blow it manages to still survive
Not wanting to be deemed naïve or insecure
It just solely believes in love to thrive
The original state of the heart to pump the blood flow to the remainder of the body
Red blood equals healthy anything other than that is always questionable
But what do you do when after years of abuse and still holding on to what you cannot see begins to torment your insides?
Are you crazy for still believing in the heart to prosper?
To continue on in spite of what’s presently taking place?
My heart used to pump the prettiest red rivers you could ever imagine
Each drop so infused with positivity the second you take a dip you became instantly worry free
I miss the way it was, when it was innocent and soft
Almost immovable within its stance on life
It wasn’t until I got down to the very last drop I realized
in order for me to live I had to become hard
And how bad I wanted to live
So I transformed all the hurt and pain that had drained
Built up the strength to reverse the river back into this organ dying
And I knew that it wouldn’t return the same
That red that was so stained had darkened but what I gained was control
To never let another soul get too close
The moment I saw you plotting my demise I would transpose
Every possible rage that I could muster up
Overtake you like a storm intentionally making it rough
In a way I admire what it’s become
Blending in with the night or in the day repels the hot sun
Black heart so cold, black heart so bold, black heart so sold to the darkness