His hands are stained blood red
From the beating of my heart.
He holds it at all times
Cherishing it
Showering it with love
He is my hearts keeper.
Never once has he let it fall
Or seen it slip from his grasp
He holds tight to it,
Afraid he may see it with someone else
But never would I let my heart
be held in another's hand.
Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 11:28 AM UTC
His hands are stained blood red
From the beating of my heart.
He holds it at all times
Cherishing it
Showering it with love
He is my hearts keeper.
Never once has he let it fall
Or seen it slip from his grasp
He holds tight to it,
Afraid he may see it with someone else
But never would I let my heart
be held in another's hand.
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