Un-amused

It's not every night that my heart breaks but I recently discovered it aches everyday apparently. I'll much rather prefer that I bled out, to this neverending aching Like a moth to light it has found a spot it can constantly make residence. The only difference here is that it bites of tiny pieces of my heart and then dares me to find a way to stop my heart from bleeding. Should I call this suicide or murder. My inability to be amused and entertained by the mundane pleasures of life, is a symptom that has become a friend. I'm lost but I'll rather remain unamused and keep banging my head against the wall and bleed. What was the high tension, that tickled my fancy. What was the goal that made me believe that the mundane was something somewhat amusing. Why were the chess pieces even moving in the first place. The world around is revolving and baring its teeth at the one unamused.