Love doth make my faint heart bleed

Does a heart bleed?
Does it not constantly leak?
A whole muscle dedicated to pushing blood out of itself
How ever much forces through the gates, ousts as quickly
And when my bleeding heart ceases will you come with me?
My certainty tells me that my heart bleeds for you,
So does it not seem fitting?
My heart does not pump blood
Rather it rejects it, it hates it, and it is never relieaved
But some would say it was worth it
Some romantic poet, Keats perhaps?
He would most definitely say it was worth it
Worth the pain of my heart in that my soul could meet you
And whence our bleeding hearts end, can it not be for vanity
That I knew you