In the blood of the empty, I do seek a wholeness,
A self worth, that my meager Crimson cannot fill,
A hole within my chest,
where the organ of love should reside,
Instead resides an organ of no such thing,
Incessant blackness encases the wound,
With a shadow of disgust,
It dost beckon the blood of the whole,
Filling the empty shadow of my heart.
Crimson Love
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/empty-wholeness/
