the heart is a fickle creature.
attached to things that bring destruction.
i wonder if the heart is aware.
told to beware of what’s to come.
to hide away from the glow of the sun.
i doubt that it was, because otherwise
the petals wouldn’t be falling.
and my hands wouldn’t shake like they do.
i also have a fear, that it might be too late.
to save what once was.
to leave free,
instead of empty.
how powerful must one be to
destroy. or perhaps just afraid.