Her hands were always cold.
As if there were ice running through those deep blue veins.
Not that her hands were any indication of her heart.
But maybe they were.
Maybe they are.
Broken veins that tell her body that if her heart stops beating,
they'll bleed the same way.
Her hands were always cold.
She always tells you.
As if there was something you can do.
But you can't because you can't change someone's heart.
and she wonders,
If her hands will always be cold.