Not in the mood to write a title

Sadness. 

It crawls from my soul,

into my soul,

right through my soul.

It shouldn't be called heartache. It doesn't hurt, it just feels like a void, 

like if your heart had just draught, dripped off your chest.

Dear heart, are you still there?

Are you sinking into this endless pain called hearbreak, unrequited love, 

just having being used, objectified and treated like a trophey by a "lover"?

Remember when you were hopeful, 

that your love would be rewarded with another heart's love, and that heart would be his.

I wonder what his heart was like when we first met, what it felt, and what it feels now.

Does it hide any bit of sadness, any bit of the desperately unfilling void that just makes you want to puke with the hopes that the pain will leave you, just like that, exiting your body and finally letting you free.

Food that makes you sick,

feelings that make you sick,

really, what is the difference?

Reviews

[Juan]

This is great. I really like the imagery you use, especially the heart dripping off the chest simile. I would review it for mistakes in grammar and spelling, though. Moreover, I could sense how you are trying to understand your sadness by anthropomorphizing it.

[Silver]

Very emotional and beautiful poem
You described it so well