The Heart--A Predator

When you follow your heart, you fall victim to it. Above all else, the heart is a most deceitful organ. It takes blood from your heard and pumps it to your extremities; allowing you to act to your most primal and stupid instinct. In you chest it lies in wait and, when it sees fit, it pounces at even the most vapid of empty promises. Your heart is a nothing more than a gluttonous leviathan lurking; leading you into suffering. Yet to depended solely in your logic is to fall into the very void your heart fills. To access the cold wisdom of past mistakes is to stray too far from the warm, lurid churning that occupies your chest. Your heart rules you, and to be without it is to be truly dead.
I may have caused you to think the heart a murderer; it is not. It cannot thrive without you. It is a much more sinister predator, for it gorges itself on suffering. For this reason, it would never be as bold as to murder. Instead it waits for its moment, snoring in  your chest. Waiting until you think logic keeps it satiated. Waiting until you forget the blood the runs nature through your veins. And when it sees fit, it strikes. The heart wraps its coils around your soul, squeezing so tightly until all the joy leaks from it like a morbid juice. Then it falls back into its hibernation, waiting again until you’ve forgotten about it once more.