The house of cards remains untouched on the desk
Fragile and unstable as the hearts of those
Who relied on others
And try to build themselves up again.

It falls, the slightest shake of the home,
The slightest breeze of summer air
Can blow it over.
Break it.
Just like your tiny heart.

The cold heart shaped paperweight
Is made of stone,
And is onyx as black as your heart.

Have you ever realized
Why the heart is shaped the way it is?
It has soft curves,
The kind love that can gather
But also
Has a sharp end
That can sting,
Burn,
Even kill
The desperate

She has the urge to throw the stone at her reflection
But knows it will change nothing
It will not fix the past
It will not help ease her regrets
It will not sew her
Broken heart together.

He has the will to knock over
The house of cards
But lack of heart prevents him
Lack of courage
Lack of emotion
Lack of intelligence
That tears him up,
Destroys,
Kills
Him inside

Yet they each know nothing can change anything.

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