I pick up the broken pieces of my delicate heart,
Feeling the sharp edges cut my skin.
My blood oozes out my flesh,
Your name carried within.
You have poisoned my body,
So I bleed you out.
With every drop,
A kiss is left unfelt.
Dried out, it becomes scars,
Reminders of you,
And what you did to my once whole heart.
These broken pieces hurt like knives.
They burn my skin, redden it.
But only a silent scream escapes,
As I fall to the ground.
I lay on this deserted desert.
Only the cracked ground for company.
My thirst is unquenchable,
Since you are my water.
I'm far away from you,
Carrying this broken heart,
Watching it burn under the sun,
To red ashes.
My blood darkens,
Revenge cornering my mind.
But I love you,
How could you?
Slowly, I burn too.
I burn, with my broken heart.
Blood evaporating to the sky,
To heaven.
While I lay here,
In hell.
I clutch my heart,
Feeling the pain,
Loving it,
Since that's all I've learned to do.
My Love is a Metaphor.
My Broken Heart is a Metaphor.