Bleeding, I held my heart.
Wounded all over, again and again.

I shouldn't feel anything, I should be numb.
Yet why does it still ache, whenever you're in pain.
You left long ago, yet your presence still fresh.

This heart, the epitome of dumb.

My body walks across
this desert of white sheet.
Wounded, the cuts across my body
bleeds ink of black
leaving its history within
this endless manuscript
called life.

"Back and forth, like a tidal wave
yearning to kiss far-fetched shores.
My body moves in the same rhythm
of a seashore that yearns to meet
the never-reaching horizon
that is the image of you"