Hello PoetryVoting

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Color me poetry

Red white and blue

cloudy foggy blue can't quite see through, but

cutting through this impossible blue is pure white

blinding white of porcelin skin that's never seen summer time, and-

red, the color and brilliance of blood

slices through the blinding white

and she fades to black.

 

black, the absence of color, the abundance of relief

I needed relief she excuses, I just... I needed it to bleed

never meant for it to happen this way, she's addicted to the silver

not the silver lining on the clouds,

because storm clouds don't have a silver lining

when they're only black

and she can't differentiate between the colors

when everything is blue

a foggy mist she can't see through

 

she's just trying to break through, maybe even cut through

but all you see are the scars on your arms,

so stunned by your own assumptions you can't see through

your own fog, to the words on her lips

bandaged cuts can't keep her silent,

her sweet voice slowly seeps through:

this is my story, this is my song,

and if i were you, i'd never sing along.

 

because her favorite color is red as the relief spills through her veins

and the scars it leaves behind tell the stories

of regret that she can't run from

but she keeps on running,

cant catch her breath, can't catch a break

she paints pictures in colors of crimson,

on her arms she paints her life scene by scene

the pictures always change, but the captions stay the same:

"I, I needed it to bleed."

 

red relief comes in a line,

you cringe at her scars, but only she can feel them

sweet crimson relief, she can finally breathe

see, the scars on her arms tell a story in red, white and blue.

doesn't want to admit it but shes addicted to this feeling

she runs her fingers over the scars,

this is her 3 dimensional healing

and she, fades to black.

Request permission to use this poem
j
Written by
jackie-mcmahon
American
Published
Feb 15, 2010
Lines·Words
41·329
Notes

this poem is significantly less, because it was written for a class.

Permission

Request to use this poem

Tell jackie-mcmahon how you would like to use it. We review requests before forwarding them.

AboutBlogFAQPrivacyTermsContact
© 2009-2026 Hello Poetry/v27.0 by @eliotyork
Explore
Hello PoetryVoting
Write