The pit

There’s a pit where her heart should be.

Avacado or peach, what difference, it’s a pit.

Hard, and nearly impenetrable, it protects.

The small soft flesh within.

The barely beating heart, constricted by fear, scarred by misuse......it hides.

Searched for by many, found by few. It trembles when any come close, hiding behind the hard shell it has built.

What hope remains for one such as this? What chance for love or companionship lays buried in this pit of a heart?

Yet the heart still beats within it’s fortress, it’s prison.

It alone holds the key, the ability, to break free.

Germinating from within.

Cracking the impenetrable shell with ease.