My heart.
It bleeds everywhere. The gaping hole in my chest. It’s sticky, it’s messy, and it won’t stop.
I hate it.
I hate how much it hurts.
I hate how much I miss it.
I hate how it’s with you.
I can feel it beat, but its desperate, hollow echo doesn’t ring in my chest. It’s in your hands, in your greedy fingers.
Your grasp over it is painful. It hurts with each breath I gasp, each step I take. You squeeze it between red-coated fingers, as if taunting me with it.
Look, I have your heart, your entire being taunts and mocks and laughs. Don’t you see? It’s with me, and you have no power over that.
I hate it.
I hate how I can’t control it.
I hate how it writhes and squirms and still beats on with life when I want it to stop.
I want the pain to stop. The pain of not being able to do anything, knowing that I can’t do anything.
I’m chained, bound, shackled to this feeling rushing through my veins to a heart that’s not there.
Pitiful, isn’t it? That all of these emotions I’m feeling all twist back to you. The one who started all this agony…
And perhaps the one who can end it, too.
I hate it.
I hate how I can’t do anything without you.
I hate it when I look down and all I see is an empty, gaping hole in my chest.
There’s nothing there.
Because everything is with you.
In that heart you hold in your hands.
I hate how I fell for you.
Give me back my heart.
Dec 14, 2025
Dec 14, 2025 at 4:49 PM UTC
My heart.
It bleeds everywhere. The gaping hole in my chest. It’s sticky, it’s messy, and it won’t stop.
I hate it.
I hate how much it hurts.
I hate how much I miss it.
I hate how it’s with you.
I can feel it beat, but its desperate, hollow echo doesn’t ring in my chest. It’s in your hands, in your greedy fingers.
Your grasp over it is painful. It hurts with each breath I gasp, each step I take. You squeeze it between red-coated fingers, as if taunting me with it.
Look, I have your heart, your entire being taunts and mocks and laughs. Don’t you see? It’s with me, and you have no power over that.
I hate it.
I hate how I can’t control it.
I hate how it writhes and squirms and still beats on with life when I want it to stop.
I want the pain to stop. The pain of not being able to do anything, knowing that I can’t do anything.
I’m chained, bound, shackled to this feeling rushing through my veins to a heart that’s not there.
Pitiful, isn’t it? That all of these emotions I’m feeling all twist back to you. The one who started all this agony…
And perhaps the one who can end it, too.
I hate it.
I hate how I can’t do anything without you.
I hate it when I look down and all I see is an empty, gaping hole in my chest.
There’s nothing there.
Because everything is with you.
In that heart you hold in your hands.
I hate how I fell for you.
Give me back my heart.
