A mind can bleed a heart to death.

A torpid heart in agony needs a pen to bleed

You can learn things from a heart so bleeding
When love bargains with deceitful pleading
Hours soar from dawn to dawn splitting your time
Don’t hear melody from a soundless chime

Bleeding isn't optional for most of us.

Every heart needs a cutting part sharper than a blade to stab agony

He belongs to a whorehouse, not in my heart