Cold

The mind is a curious, and often uncontrollable, thing.

Let me love.
I wish to hate no more.
Allow me to cross that line.
Give me a push.

This fire in my mind,
It burns all my thoughts;
Turns my feelings to ash.
I have little control.

I grow intolerant
Of my own intolerance.
I am a wooden boat
Lost in a sea of flame.

I would love to love,
But the stone block in my chest
Refuses to seep emotion.
It will not bleed nor melt.

Let me love.
I wish to hate no more.
I fear to cross that line,
What if I still feel nothing?

The End

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