It bleeds no more

Through so many years of rejection and a loneliness only known to that of the dead. His heart bled with every beat. Though too soon did it stop and grow black and cold. Thorns were grown to keep others away. Why did he do such things is something nobody will ever know. Then one faithful day does he take a few thorns down and lets one close. At first the warmth hurt him, confused him, and even scared him. As time went on that one hand had cut down more of the thorns letting many more hands to touch it. Some left leaving small cuts or holes, but they were soon filled by those that stayed. Life had come back as it began to beat as it once had long ago, though the bleeding still held fast. Then a handful of those touching did more. They hugged it, embracing it as the beats grew stronger with every passing day. Slowly did it stop bleeding when that happened. Though some of the thorns may have cut them they stayed close when he tore at himself to be rid of such things. Scars are left in place of the thorns so that they could hold on tight. Yet there was one of them all that had held it longer, tighter, closer, and more kindly then all the others. She comforted him in the worst of storms as did he for her. Every time she came close it gets louder and faster. Though a good thing it is confusing him more then the first warm touch. All the parts that had bled a bright crimson fluid have stopped with no small thanks to those he holds close.