A random poem i wrote at 3:40 a.m.

                                                   This Heart

All it does is bleed and break,

Quite as delicate as a snowflake,

But it can still cause ripples in the middle of a lake.

So, mi amour, for your own sake,

Do pray and hope to leave this heart in your wake 

For, years ago, it vowed to ceaselessly give but never take

And now, there isn't much difference it can make,

Because when you are so empty and completely drained and in appearance, you start to resemble a deadly snake,

All you can do then is be greedy and ache.