Empty

I swear, you deserve a poem.
Heartache like this...
...doesn't come around too often.
I should probably write a poem for you too.
It is only right.

But alas...
...the ones who came before you
They took everything.
I have nothing left to give.

So I sit here in pain.

Sweet excruciating pain

But all the words have been said.
There are no metaphors left.

I am sorry my love.

For though the knife struck deep.

Immortality I'm afraid...
...is not for you.