IT'S MORE THAN PAIN

It doesn’t hurt.

Hurt is too soft, too small.

This is a void—

a black hole tearing through my chest,

eating everything I was.

It’s not just empty;

it’s endless.

Nothing fills it,

and you know nothing will.

It’s punishment, brutal and sharp,

like a dagger driven through a vampire’s heart—

not for a crime,

but for needing to feed.

It crushed me.

It fed me to demons.

It scraped love from my ribs,

left them raw,

then left me there to die—

all because I loved someone.

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