The feeling and context behind this poem is already gone. But I enjoyed the image while I wrote this, because I was chewing my lip while writing the whole thing. Life's ironic.

Nervous Habits

My lip bleeds,
As I rip and tear it with my teeth,
It gushes into my mouth,
And I taste its bitter sweetness.
It reminds me of my heart,
As it pulses, keeping me alive,
It is causing my demise,
Because with each new pump,
A new gush of blood drips out,
My heart, it is bleeding for you;
But you've decided to play it cool,
Acting like it doesn't even bother you.