This Heart, My Heart

This heart, my heart.
A vessel in which to feel.
Has been broken for sometime now.
Has lost touch with all that’s real.

This heart, my heart.
A pump in which to feed.
Is drained of all its love now.
It has not what it needs.

This heart, my heart.
A machine in which to live.
Is losing all its energy, and power.
It has nothing left to give.

This heart, my heart.
A bounty in which to hold.
You decided you didn’t want it.
Saddest story ever told.

~heart & soul~

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