I pull my hearts out painfully and put it on a chain. I drag it along, just to feel its pain. Love is like a sickly death it leaves your lonely soul to bleed. My heart is growing colder, there is nothing left to need. I awake at night, mourn and become weak. The more I panic at the thought of you, the less I'm able to sleep. I am numb, and my heart can not carry on. As I feel myself go, and I know this is the end, I feel my face go pallid, nevermore to see, the owl all night hoots mournfully. So just nevermind, don't try, I'm already gone, a gentle breeze in a hurricane defiant, and forevermore to long.
May 30, 2008