prick
I felt something
*prick*
a trickle of blood from my heart, because it all comes from there, you know?
But from a prick should only come a trickle,
and this warm river flowing from my heart wasn’t sincere,
wasn’t a *prick*
but a stab in the very virgin blood of my heart,
no longer on it’s travels inside my shell.
Just stagnant, exposed, and still.