A Wayward Heart

I had forgotten what it felt like to have hatred coursing through my veins. I tricked myself into a sham of an existence. I denied reality even as gooey little white and black droplets of truth rained down all around me. In my eyes the gutters no longer ran grey with the feathers of vermin. The sidewalk was merely sweating, I told myself each time I stepped in excrement. The city must have hyperhidrosis.
Then as I walked the park on a beautiful October afternoon I saw this heart. I saw only a heart and I smiled. Something that had been smoldering deep down inside of me for far too long (possibly that quesarito I had for lunch) made me look up again. Beyond that heart-shaped deception was the face of pure evil. I had seen it before and once again it looked smugly down at me. They thought they won, but that was only because they were fighting a blind man. I have rubbed the filth from eyes and I can see once again.