The blood wasnt pumping anymore.
  your body can still thrive without a brain but never without a heart
I think thats why ive always felt dead.
  My heart was bitter and black, the only sound escaping it were the whispers of envious mad men looking for their sanity.
  Love didnt have a home in my body, only a motel room where it would come and go but never stay long. Dissarayed sheets and the lights off, hands searching for love but only finding lust.
  I learned to never beg for it to stay the morning after, it always left when the sunlight flitted over last nights empty promises.
  If love ever came knocking now i wouldnt have the slighest clue, id slam the door before it even stepped a foot in.