I never understood the metaphor
"A heart that's ripped out"
Until my heart
Finally
Was ripped out.

Instead

A massive black hole swells in my chest
Consuming everything
Sapping every ounce of hope and zest
Devouring all energy, peace, memories, and meaning...

Unease gnaws in the back of my mind
I do believe things happen for a reason
But I wish, just once, the time would rewind
Maybe this try I would luckily awaken...

I take a brief glimpse into the dark abyss
Into the gap inside that fills the space
The space inside that feeds on hate
Where the misery and the savage rage sit.

My problem is I never healed
I just kept going
Until this void is sealed,
The hate rush is still overflowing

I'm neither hurt,
Nor empty.
All I can feel is that I'm half full of poems and the remnants that I am...
Which is worse,
I Believe

I'm twisted, moulded into this creature...
I will not love
A non artist
Ever again...