Paper Hearts.

Young and green,

You carved those intentions in,

Prehistoric paper parting at your will.

Ever the picture of brilliance,

Leaves danced for but a passing glance,

For just a taste of that sweet vermilion

Dripping from your lips.

Now nothing moves,

Scar tissue still holding it's grudge,

And the years have long since obscured

The passion of those words.

But somewhere under armoured skin,

Under ash on forest paths,

Lies something dead,

Something marked,

Something long ago, young and green.