Pulsing, pounding in my ears,
Each breath a beat tonight
Eyes squeezed shut, I stand alone,
Naked in this spotlight.
I've cut myself wide open,
To spill my truth with care.
Haunted by the dark I see
Sprinkled here and there.
A whisper of a memory
Glimmers in the night.
Motion caught by watchful eyes
As faithfully, I write.
Exposed, my pain, my sorrow,
My fragile hopes and dreams
Bleed from cuts that reach the bone
And flow in crimson streams.
My soul lies bare and broken,
Vulnerable to feel pain.
Though fearful, I still breathe new words.
It's all that keeps me sane.
Feb 15
Feb 15, 2026 at 10:06 AM UTC
Pulsing, pounding in my ears,
Each breath a beat tonight
Eyes squeezed shut, I stand alone,
Naked in this spotlight.
I've cut myself wide open,
To spill my truth with care.
Haunted by the dark I see
Sprinkled here and there.
A whisper of a memory
Glimmers in the night.
Motion caught by watchful eyes
As faithfully, I write.
Exposed, my pain, my sorrow,
My fragile hopes and dreams
Bleed from cuts that reach the bone
And flow in crimson streams.
My soul lies bare and broken,
Vulnerable to feel pain.
Though fearful, I still breathe new words.
It's all that keeps me sane.
Inspired by the following quote:
"It is my belief that great poetry requires the writer to place a fragment of their pain and sorrow; hopes and dreams, their very soul into their poems and there lies the rub. For one must stand naked in their vulnerability in the metaphorical streets and be open to the slings and arrows that come from writing their truths; and that.......that is no small thing."
