My heart is cold this is true, but it's not as cold as when you let go of it before giving it back. Not as cold as when you steeped it in what I thought was "love" and then peel back the plastic casing with a joking laugh. My heart is cold because you left it with no warmth. It's cold because I was left in the dark with no light and two options. My heart may be cold but it will never be as cold as the blade that ran through me for the last time. You can say it was suicide but it was never the same, because I've always felt dead around you, And I'm still apologizing for getting my cold hearted blood on your knife. Excuse me for my ignorance. I promise there won't be a next time.