Black Heart

Wounded and hopeless.

Black. Black as the night, as the bottom of a deep hole. It was black. It had never been as dark and mysterious as that. In fact, I had known it pretty well, seen it turn into a piece of art, willing to translate into fine print and into paper. Or into a blank canvas that was too large to see its edges. But now, it was tainted.
    I don't recognize it, it's different. It has no hope or love and it doesn't expect. It knows that the darkness is unhealthy, yet, does nothing about it. I wouldn't blame it, it has been broken, torn, scratched, and almost killed. He did it. I didn't know it at the beginning, he had seemed so innocent, so...nice. I trusted him, even though everything else was telling me to not. The trees, the flowers, the branches...all were whispering to me that I shouldn't trust him. I shouldn't be with him...
    But I did.
    I trusted him more than I trusted myself. I fell without a met, without a mattress to catch me in the bottom. And yet, I was not surprised to know that his arms cought me, that he was there. I slept, dreaming of him every night. I saw him when my eyes were open and closed.
    I believed he wanted me as well, stupid me. It was all just games, just plain games and nothing more. Not so funny, darkness has no space for laughter. He laughed, he found it funny.
    And now, my heart is wrinkled and cold and dark, dead dark.