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TW: blood
~
isn't it amazing?

put your hand on your chest
now make a cut and watch yourself bleed
bleed deeply
flowing
flowing
flowing
red
pouring
but that heart
it's still beating
feel deeply
alive
still alive
despite the pain
how?
Bailey Mar 6
Is it physical
Is it emotional
Is it metaphorical

Does it matter
Because in the end
It still bleeds
My Dear Poet Feb 7
I want
you

closer to me
than my own skin

I want you
all the way
and all the way in

past bone and muscle
vein and tissue

all the way through

till I’m bleeding

and bleeding
you.
mary liles Aug 2021
how is it that you stand there
speaking and smiling?
every word is a dagger
in my heart.
you rip and tear the walls.
my heart constricts and i am not safe.
who are you to do this?
be silent;
though it pains me still.
Diksha Prashar Jul 2021
My thoughts are mine
But, somehow I fear them
they speak volumes
I often feel deaf
they shook me bad
i try to hide
from the chase they love
though, I cry
when they fell numb
I find myself sigh
'was it worthwhile?'
to let them define
my worth like that
I tend to overthink
just like they desire
fear consumes me
chaining me in its clutches
on my knees
bleeding crimson
a sad reality
I accept
guilty I proceed
vulnerable picture of me.
Be my beautiful reader and visit my blog www.dikshaprashar.com
Raven Feels Jul 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, feels=good ----- feelings=no good:(

the balance arises she points
illuminance not the right joint
like the sun overdosed in the sky
clouds disappear in the high
flipped worlds refraction in swords

in an instant speed
nightfall glitches in a scream
kiss the moon in a double tick
the fulls bright convincing a vision trick
save the day
in no way

spinal chords in the dark serenading the blue
but my colors drained from every single hue
the center of the system remains golden
confusion enlightens a feeling so broken
trapped the whole breathing
and my lungs are still bleeding


                                                                                    ------ravenfeels
FC Azaele May 2021


I cannot feel
or reel in the things that i deem to be unreal
There's a blank spot in my heart a pit
that's been teared open and wholly ripped apart


Do not dare falter or stumble in your path
Do not scorn or scoff at this nor dare lay a frown
Do not look down at me
and see as if i am some widowed gal reaching out her hand

I pretend to know where the bird lays it's nest
Pretend to know the flowers are here to stay
but that's a play pretend, i know nothing except the horrors that stay grey and feed all day
I pretend to smile and seem as if i hadn't been bleeding where i lay

Go on with your path,
falter not at the widow least you desire to face it's wrath
Go on,
least you find what's missing then serve your hand,
Good man
Jaicob May 2021
Lemons into lemonade...
That's what they tell me.
It's so hard to make lemonade
When your wrists want to bleed.
The juice stings my flesh
And I just want to end.
The scars remain on my flesh
A reminder of my friend.
Pain is the only one I can tell
Nothing else is real.
Other people will spill and tell
The secret of how I feel.

Lemons into lamentation
That's all I have today-
Nothing but hopeless lamentation-
Until life stops dumping lemons on my tray.
Laokos Apr 2021
~every distance is a long shot
within reach of a fool
~
                          Prv. 𝑓:𝑦

bleed your heart out in dripping
poetic pretense―slip
that inky salamander some silk:

         "the wilting waiting flora
bequeathed their busting bouquets and
     bountiful bosoms unto the world
              in all of its prescient
                       violence"


then read it back to yourself
later and be
absolutely disgusted.

throw it away with all the other
things you've done in your
life.

now reach back in your closet
and rattle the skeletons
lingering there.

finger your dreams in the
dark under pressure
from the mind
to find yourself.

the lightning severance
will sing and
anxiety will
harmonize with the knife.

you've done it again...
****** it all up
and everyone
knows it.

you could eat all the erasers
in the world
and your **** still
wouldn't come out correct.

a lifetime of valleys and
seawalls has made you
an avatar of
effortless blunder.

and you can't stop bleeding
all over the page; white
is red again
cause
you blue it.

bleed in―breathe out
breathe in―bleed out
bleed in―breathe out
breathe in―
bleed out...

welcome to the creative
process.
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