Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Careless at heart, irreverently playing with fire until the stones would hit me. Were others to turn, I was to linger. Fall from grace, only to stitch back up again, for another spineless attempt to reach the end of the tunnel. Shards of a broken mirror worn as makeup, the weight of my sins, as a black cloak on my shoulders, hiding with guilt behind elaborate escapism. High on airborne pride and delusions holding judgement in the eye, ruling out truth with tragic excuses while bending my knees to faux devotion. Life blinded chasing the fake dreams of a living nightmare— soul slumbering in a vivid comatose. Traversing sideways, always yet the current carried on, unremorseful and unmoored. And in this crescendo of a waste, with everything still to lose, in all those lies, with no more to gain, out of fire and stone— was I born. A last resort, with my first breath after coma, choosing life before death. Oh, had the light reached sooner, I’d forgive myself once more, to forget the crimes of my mind.
0
Feb 27
Feb 27, 2026 at 7:10 PM UTC
Comatose
Careless at heart, irreverently playing with fire until the stones would hit me. Were others to turn, I was to linger. Fall from grace, only to stitch back up again, for another spineless attempt to reach the end of the tunnel. Shards of a broken mirror worn as makeup, the weight of my sins, as a black cloak on my shoulders, hiding with guilt behind elaborate escapism. High on airborne pride and delusions holding judgement in the eye, ruling out truth with tragic excuses while bending my knees to faux devotion. Life blinded chasing the fake dreams of a living nightmare— soul slumbering in a vivid comatose. Traversing sideways, always yet the current carried on, unremorseful and unmoored. And in this crescendo of a waste, with everything still to lose, in all those lies, with no more to gain, out of fire and stone— was I born. A last resort, with my first breath after coma, choosing life before death. Oh, had the light reached sooner, I’d forgive myself once more, to forget the crimes of my mind.
flame-heart
Written by
38/Stockholm
Feb 27
Feb 27, 2026 at 7:10 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem