heart

I sit and cry, feeling my heart become solid,
Then it cracks and melts into a bloody mess.
Thinking of you yet not being yours,
I should be glad I’m in your life yet it pains me I’m not in your heart.

I sit up late, in my dark, desolate room huddled in a sobbing mass,
Clinging on to the glimmer of hope and light that the candle provides.
I sit there wiping away the crimson tears, hiding away my terrible sin.
Praying no one, especially you, finds out what I have done.