Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2020
There is music in me
Bursting, aching, leaking
I'm singing involuntarily
Crying like an addict
Who hasn't used in months

History repeats itself
Over, and over, and over
A father is always farther
How many times
Can one dad die

I try to strum the chords
But my fingernails bleed
I try to sing the words
Out of my wasted vocal chords
But this rotten, useless music
Was his to pass down
And mine to drown in

A heart that feels too much
And can't beat a single time
Without bleeding on his hands
Dripping in his eyes
Always blind to see
The pain of this consuming me.
Hanarchy
Written by
Hanarchy  25/F
(25/F)   
99
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems