Incomplete

My beautiful lover,
What have you done to my sordid heart,
Stringing them with malignant intent,
Oh, I want you all to me,
This pain with each breath,
The hole that’s wide spread.
The sun pierces through my skin,
It’s like I’m non-existent,
The red on the my lips
As I whisper through yours;
Tell me, am I ignorant to hope?
Blues and bridges passed, indeed I’m not whole,
Why do you keep prodding to reach my soul?

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