my heart is still bleeding.
the only thing separating my love,
its useless existence.
still beating.
this miserable being here.
still breathing.
when I only wanted my lungs to collapse,
I've waited so long for my last.
and it's ever fleeting.
a distant hope,
this breath may be choked
by this rope I dangle from.
untangle these heart strings to knot their beating.
love pooled on the floor in the stilled bleeding.
once again, silence.
love, forever sleeping.
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 12:21 AM UTC
my heart is still bleeding.
the only thing separating my love,
its useless existence.
still beating.
this miserable being here.
still breathing.
when I only wanted my lungs to collapse,
I've waited so long for my last.
and it's ever fleeting.
a distant hope,
this breath may be choked
by this rope I dangle from.
untangle these heart strings to knot their beating.
love pooled on the floor in the stilled bleeding.
once again, silence.
love, forever sleeping.
poets are made from broken hearts.
