My Heart He Drained Of Blood

My Heart He Drained Of Blood

My heart’s blood fed his roots,

seeping into the soil of his silence,

while I withered,

an empty, broken shell.

The one he swore he cherished,

yet still, he watched me perish,

drinking my blood so slowly,

like a thief beneath the night.

I became less than a whisper,

a hollow breath lost in the dark,

while thorns twisted through me,

a cruel crown for a love long gone.

Now only a lifeless tree remains,

its branches heavy with the weight

of promises turned to poison

and roots stained with my pain.

And though my heart lies quiet,

its blood still lingers deep,

a silent scream within the soil

where hope was meant to sleep.

Let the roots remember sorrow,

let the branches clutch regret,

for every drop that fed his growth

was a wound he won’t forget.