My eyes are dry having used all the tears but the tears of my heart continue to cry, warm droplets frozen by the icy wind from the cold hearts of others. Jagged shards of ice dripping from my weeping heart tearing, shredding, gouging, wounding,trying to disfigure and make grotesque the love in my heart. My heart grows old and weary of the pain offering love only to be rejected again rebuked in the worst possible ways lied to, cheated on, closed heart and mind, used, just refused. Outside my heart is scarred and strewn like craters of the moon but inside there is a garden of flowers fed by the spring of warm tears as they flow to face the cold hearts Though the flower garden is old and not as bright the blossoms are still full of love waiting apprehensively, expectantly,to merge with the garden of another. Outside the icy winds blow,the tears of my heart painfully freeze,eternally awaiting a warm heart to change them to water again.
