Labor of love

shallow and empty my grave is littered with decaying hearts

I don't know how to mourn let alone have any closure, but I do know that the tearing inside me is dark

It is a fate that just seems to be more about the edges than the steel itself

No person can fill this void that I have carved so cleverly in my chest 

No thought can relieve the moments of sadness when the rain comes pouring down and I find myself in this muddy pit again

Someone someday will know that I am here