Blackness In Its Redness

If someone could understand this troubled heart.
It's sadness in those dark corners ,
inside those darkest of caves.
It's insecurities in light.
It's indulgence and it's incompetence,
melancholic pain and the whispers (dub lub). 
The years of longing and its willingness to bleed.
If someone could understand this feral heart. 
Its belligerence, it's fire that could burn.
Blackness of its redness, 
that craving of love and everything else.
If only could.