Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2018
I imagine I’M writing in Red.
I imagine I pulled this pen from
My Heart
like a sword from stone
and that my feelings
Bleed onto this page.

I hold my breath and I pretend.
           I pretend
That I am NOT drowning
       In these...feelings?
and I Pretend that I have gills
instead of scars ‘round my neck.

And ... I try , I REALLY try
to keep these hands steady
as I recklessly collect these fragments
of myself
But these sharp edges cut deep

and i try to see with tears in my eyes

BUT I CAN’T
       IMAGINE
              PRETEND
                   OR TRY
not any more.
because i can’t
hold on, forgive , or forget

All I can do is lift this pen
write
Then stick my hole ridden heart
one more time.

-M.O.I
I feel shattered , tired, and hopeless. Lately it just seems like if I don’t pretend things are ok I will fall apart. If I don’t try I will not fix my problems, but somethings are not worth fixing. You might just cut yourself in the process
William de klerk
Written by
William de klerk  19/M/South Africa
(19/M/South Africa)   
380
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems