Still, Swollen

What would you say if I told you I loved you?
Or said, “I love you.”
Because we're both dancing around a bleeding heart.
Whose it is we've yet to find out.
All I know is that I'm becoming swollen.
Inflamed at the edges of the hole in my chest.
Where you've reached through my skin,
and ripped out the love that rested inside.
But what if I told you I can still feel?
Or I said, “I still love you.”