The beating heart never stops

I
want my beating heart to
breathe with love
instead
of sounding like a deep cave
full of self-hatred

It glows as to cooperate with me
willingly

A sewing thread of the end
where I'm hanging from
is to leverage my weight of burdens

The night terrors
are on the edge
while I'm screaming and crying

It looks like a chamber of bad memories,
the  massacre;
the most captivating of stories to tell,
just to find the strongest of people

It will engulf my soul
whilst desire will emerge as acid,
gradually burn me
from the insides and out.
and then there's *empty