Forever cursed by possession of a heart that never knows waiting
For having a heart foolishly driven
To falling in love
For attempting to contain in lines of verse
More emotion than it can ever hold
Cursed heart left to bleed out
From with in this hollow chest into pools of words
Piled high, waiting to be fit into place
Desperate to know their placement upon pages
Upon these paper thin defenses
Defenders against insanity
Liberators of thought
Remainder of emotion
Placed perfectly on a lined canvas
Brilliant red stains on pale white pages
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