She knocked at his heart’s door. (Un)Fortunately no one was home.
Enough with the open heart surgery!
Time for some open mind kind!
Your heart is a mess.
Look, put the box over there.
So this is heart.
Heart, this is … what was your name again?
I turned my back on the lessons of the Lord.
I decided to by ruled by my heart.
Rachel broke my heart. Her husband broke my knees.
She didn’t like going to her neighbor’s house, 3 doors down, because there were no streetlights with the trees casting a frightening shadow under the moon’s light, and it was always deathly silent on their street, but they had asked her to feed their cats while they were gone for two days, so with trepidation she approached the door, only to hear a sudden, terrifyingly, booming roar, followed by vicious growling, a man’s commanding voice, and bright lights flashing in the bedroom.
After she recovered from her shock, and still clutching her chest where her heart would be if it hadn’t fallen down to her stomach, she remembered that they leave Animal Planet on the television for their cats!
Sheree, always conscious of her full figure, and worried that Tony, her new boyfriend secretly thought she was too fat, was surprised when she found him standing at her front door with a dozen red roses in one hand and a huge 10 pound box of chocolates in the other.
Her heart fluttered, thinking this was the most perfect Valentine’s gift in the world, and Tony was the most thoughtful man she had ever met, when he informed her that the roses were for her mother for bringing her into this world, and the chocolates were for her because she needed some meat on her bones.
Gluing the pieces of the broken flower vase back together, she wept uncontrollably. If only she could glue the shattered pieces of her heart back together, she sighed through her tears.
My feet are cold.
Just like my hear…mwah ha ha heart.
After having spent all insurance claim after my late husband on fancy holidays, expensive things – which I have sold – and many adventures with men, I found myself sitting in my old house, abandoned and alone without resources. I was looking at my deep-freezer – my only reserves for rainy days and I was pondering whether to unfreeze and eat the limbs or heart of my late husband.
I feel my teeth try to bite the wall while i silently scream.
I love her.
Four little words, locked tightly in her heart all these years, in part because of her stoic upbringing where a show of emotions was embarrassing to her parents, and another part due to her shy nature, suddenly escaped her lips with a fierce gentleness and a welling of relief.
“I love you dad,” now emerged from her heart and her mouth accompanied by the sad realization that these words that she longed to say all her life, would fall on deaf ears, for the dead don’t hear.
She looked at me with teary eyes. Then she shot me.
I am waiting for heart donors. A sucker on motorbike dies, I throb on.
She wrapped her little arms around me as I pushed the four wheeled machine to higher speeds. I felt as if I could fly just from the excitement, but I dare not, for I did not know if wings had grown on her heart like they grown had on mine.
My ex-husband told me that he would steal my heart again.
It now sits in a jar on his nightstand.
The world is beautiful with tears in my eyes. What could it be without?