can't find a title to this poem, could it be named?

[pulsar marten]

You were,
good enough to conceive me,
sad enough to mistreat me.
twisting the knots of a
hopeless fight.

oh good soul,
where were you roaming long ago,
when i was the worst of them all.
the saddest echo you'll ever hear.

I've been—
piercing
thousands and glimpses of screeching souls,
yet,
none of them could ever—
feed the silence.
oh my!
dear sir,
have i
cut off your pretty
"sane mind"?
is that why you all seem to—
cry?..

Drop more.
of that slow dripping sorrow.
dear, good sir.
i have never
drenched more in
such a pretty core
cry.

you can ,
satisfy those starving does.
but, dear boy,
beware those voids and stars they
could scorch at any moment,
such a fiery good red.

[modern tide]

This poem is really powerful in how it creates a disturbing, almost hypnotic voice. It feels like the speaker exists in a space between pain and control like they’ve been hurt deeply but are now almost consuming that pain, both theirs and others’.

It feels like pain that has turned into something almost dangerous and consuming and that’s what makes it stand out. With a bit more clarity and polish, it could be really impactful.

I think it can be called “Feeding the Silence”

[lilac current]

I suggest "The Starving Soul"

[random pawn]

sometimes not giving a specific name to something is better, let it be like what it is now, don't name it untill u feel some connection with name, though the is actually very deep and u have kept each word beautifully/