My pen has failed me
I sit with it and
Sheets of lined paper
Ready to be filled
But the words don't flow right
They're no longer adequate to express
This dull, aching hopelessness
Of knowing that I've lost my heart
Handed it away to someone
Who was much too careless
As words lined the already lined page
Bleeding hearts with barbed wire vines
Etched into the paper
During my wait for words
To pick their way out of my head
I listen to their sound as they tread
Through the minefield of my mind
Getting in traps that distort their meaning
Words like love becoming bleak
Because it got stuck in the trap
The trap that is you
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 1:41 PM UTC
My pen has failed me
I sit with it and
Sheets of lined paper
Ready to be filled
But the words don't flow right
They're no longer adequate to express
This dull, aching hopelessness
Of knowing that I've lost my heart
Handed it away to someone
Who was much too careless
As words lined the already lined page
Bleeding hearts with barbed wire vines
Etched into the paper
During my wait for words
To pick their way out of my head
I listen to their sound as they tread
Through the minefield of my mind
Getting in traps that distort their meaning
Words like love becoming bleak
Because it got stuck in the trap
The trap that is you
Bleeding hearts as in the flower bush... Nothing quite so corny as the heart shapes...
