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Zack Ripley Mar 17
it's not about the pain.
it's not about the price.
it's about the sacrifice people are willing to accept
to get what they want. to get what they need.
understanding they're willing to do more than bleed.
because understanding is the first step to earning respect.
and a world with more respect
brings us one step closer to a world of acceptance.
I S A A C Jan 1
I was shot down like a bird
bleeding into the earth
it is a cycle I say as I watch my life fading away
in and out of black
in and out of panic attacks
whichever way I choose it's all a ruse
I was an old soul plagued with idealism
So naive to not see the true villain
My passion blinded me could not see the vermillion flags
I S A A C Nov 2021
hypnotic dreams, what are you telling me?
I feel everything, I feel myself unraveling
the beautiful ribbons suddenly choking me
I can't breathe, I can't see
the winding road ahead, me ever leaving this bed
possibilities are endless but not in my head
there's only one way or else I stray
cannot see myself set ablaze at the stake
I thought I was magic
turns out I am just a magnet for tragic endings
suspending my beliefs, diving deep
I hope I can reignite the spark in me
the sparks I bleed and not just drown in this sea
heaven watch over me
I let you go,
like the waves rolling on the shore,
and a little boy who lost his footwear,
crying scared to go back to her mother
where he had lost the gifts.

I let you go,
like a couple of ashy Prinia birds
dancing among the bamboo branches
sing loudly in the breeding season, build nests and lay eggs,
but replaced by the eggs of cuckoos that grew and were cared for with love.

I let you go,
like cities that have long since died
the quiet and lonely
and people left
and no one ever came back to occupy.

I let you go,
like the paintings of pain
from wounds that bleed and lose
displayed at art exhibitions,
and everyone was amazed to see.

I let you go,
like a memory in a photo album
from loved ones first,
yellowed full of blotches of teardrops,
worn-out dusty and looks real.

I let you go,
like an angry poet
in front of half-finished poems
who have been lost for words for a long time
to be reassembled.

I let you go,
like falling rain,
and a boy running around looking for shelter
with wounds on his right hand
holding tightly to the thorny rose.

I let you go,
like a book
and sad stories
which has been left for a long time
after reading all night.

Once again,
I let you go,
as a most perfect poem,
that I have written,
from the remnants of memories in the head.
Indonesia, 20th October 2021
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho
Diksha Prashar Aug 2021
I waited patiently
for them to heal
but, forgot
scratched
wounds are
meant to bleed
Cathy Devan Jul 2021
She wishes she was a cave,
So she could echo back,
Her poetry,
On paper,
Or maybe leprechaun,
Could summon her writer spirit,
And she would bleed,
On paper,
Like before,
When she felt weightless,
Like paper,
And free like the wind.
©Cathy Devan
It is so very easy
To open these veins
When love runs
Deeper than blood

©FaerieFoxPoetry
Lee Aaun Mar 2021
i am never gonna cry in the rain,
as i can show the world
who has hurt me and let me bleed pain
just the way you never cared
either if someone will watch you
tormenting my blood, flesh and bones
i will not stop telling my saga to those
who need courage to get out of that love
which is just a fake illusion
as souls like me deserve love whose
stars shine on the sky
you deserve more
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