My Love

Stab me in the heart, It's nearly fully pulled. I know you're into knives, So it can't be difficult. You've done it once before, It keeps slipping from your hand. Take one final, Knowing blow And stab me in the heart, Why dont'cha The blade's no less dull; No less sharp, To penetrate my heart. Though utterly mushed, my blood somehow rush; You confine me in this cage. A constant acid rain deploys Over my being, Burning my hope, Carving a void. I beg change your blade, I need new sensation. It all goes the same, Until nothing does. My heart remains true, Despite all the gauze. Destroying my heart fares nearly impossible. It's one of red, An everlasting afterthought When the blood begone. It takes, Yet heals in wishful thinking. Yes, that is my heart. But stab me in the heart, Why don'tcha. You'll surely rid my sorrows. For now I laugh Over your pitiful blade, Never to fulfill it's mission; Yet you still let it slip. Turn your glowing knife away, You've plenty others. Only then may I have.