Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Amanda Apr 20
My heart is made of delicate glass
Understand that it breaks easily
The tiniest obstacles in my path
Freeze my heartbeat temporarily

Other times it feels as if
It has not yet pumped blood at all
Like red waves building up dammed in
Cannot push through my scarred heart's wall

Sometimes it is so full it bursts
Overflowing love right out of my chest
But that bliss also means when it bleeds it hurts
Great joy comes with proportionate unhappiness
Yes I stole the title from Blondies #1 hit
Lyn-Purcell Jun 2018
Just when she thought she could
finally rest, she finds now she
must help conquer his
demons. Ones who
have plagued him
since birth
but for him,
she's more than willing
to give up all of who she is
to save him. Perhaps, her heart is too
big. For it bleeds for those touched
by pain.

In all is fair in love,
this means war
This is a poem for someone I know. Shes too kind for her own good, too caring too. Even when people tell her that she can't save them all.
Her latest relationship is a toxic one. Everyone seems to see and tell her but she won't listen. Theres only so much one can do....
Be back soon.
Lyn x
Sabila Siddiqui Mar 2018
I don't know what it is to
live a balanced life.
For I tear at the seams,
and live in extremes.

When happiness embraces me,
I do not smile
But become the sun;
that glows, shine and gleams.

When sadness enwraps me
I don't drizzle, I rain
I become the hurricane of blue,
the abyss of the starless sky;
I become the void.

When anger smolders me;
I don't yell, I burn out my sanity
I become the boiling blood
and the explosion of heat.

When loss deprives me
I do not grieve, I do not tarnish
I break, shatter and tear
I become the heart that does not beat but bleeds.
I become the wailing wind that breezes through the cypress trees.

I am either cold like Vinson Massif
or soft like a marshmallow
For I am the one who experiences no in between.
TD Feb 2018
Expression
trapped in the tension stoked
by warmongers
existing in cages.

A violent history
conquerors unbind
their twisted sails.
Thrashing arms
knot the chains.

Lost in a manifesto
to change.
Once yar with bounties
from the far and away.

Overcome they’ve tossed their lily petals into the pressing foam—
to watch churlish eyes expand.
A global reckoning implodes.

Diego and poor Frida
peer deeply in
their brush strokes ripe with liquid passion.

(Jaded like the pouting mouth
of one promiscuous glance too many.)

The rouge bleeds
rivulets along a canvas edge
framed by illicit
visitors.
Star BG Jan 2018
She bleeds on me
with her negative flowing jargon
that attaches like plague.

Words that dishonor my very soul.
Red corpuscles from heart
try to disintegrate its power
as blood melts into me
robbing me from life energy.

Ego jumps in
supporting her disease of thoughts
as I determined to survive reach for truth.

Positive words to bath in
and wash blood away.

Truths that say,
I am a smart, precious,
gifted and
deserving to be free

Free from the disease of my mothers blindness.
inspired by branded glaciers GE   Thank You
Pleas NOTE  I still love my mother. She helped me heal past life stuff and made me strong. There is NOTHING I would not do for her at her age of 91.
But it is important to get out to let scab form and not get opened again.
Erin Suurkoivu Oct 2016
morning bleeds in
then blazes
the sky pierced open by one hot star
night melts away, slinky black cat
Ovi-Odiete Oct 2016
A SOCIETY WRITTEN IN FLAMES; SHROUDED IN DARKNESS

The tears flows in an endless way
Bemoaning the days of yore
Watching with eyes that sparks red,
Sunken and beaten from the tragedies of yore
Helpless and wishing for a relentless call
As tragedy hits her most sensitive part,
Bemoaning the tides,
All her days of glory,
Now a shadowy story


She had been ***** by her very own,
The children she yearned and bled for,
The men she fed and trained,
Where her rain fell full and vast, to soothe their hearts
Where she gave it all, and smiled, hoping that someday, they will realize her sacrifices and sleepless nights,
Her nights of terror and horrors
Where she stood in the midst of the stormy eerie night, shrouded in darkness


It was her ******* they ****** and clunged to,
It was her arms that shielded them from the shadows of the dark,
But when they grew and flew,
She waited still
Praying and wishing they would remember the days of yore


Then the dark hour rolled away,
And when morning came, it was harrowing.
It was harrowing how she waited abandoned and dejected,
As her sons and daughters peaked at the sky,
Trampling her down,
Relegating and belittling her
Painful it were, as she cried from the agonies of the days of yore,
Where she laid all her virtues down,
Giving it all to see her children smile,


It is this dejection that has brought her to tears,
It is this wickedness of a child to a mother, that has made her weep endlessly
It is this tragedy that have swallowed her glory,
As her children keeps flying above huddles, in peace and harmony,
Forgetting her,
It is this callousness, that pushed them to sapping her virtues and enriching themselves with it thereon


What is worse than a child abandoning his mother?
It is this penchant, that drives them
It is the love of greed,
It is the seed of corruption,
It is not an inherited trait,
It is a despicable decision
Like a monstrous shadow,
Twirling the back of the night.
It is the fire that burns within their heart,
The fire to ****, steal and destroy
To take what she can never give again
To live,
To live big at the expenses of others sorrow and agony
It is this evil that has perused Nigeria and has rendered her a roaming wretch
And now tragedy looms,
It booms and blooms,

A society written in flames
Who will save MOTHER NIGERIA?


Ovi Odiete©* 2016, Oct. 31
All rights reserved

Note
Children here signifies the evil politicians and men that has sapped our country dry with their evil penchant
A society written in flames
Alan S Bailey Apr 2016
All is vanity*

Denied, all under a veil of secrecy,
Big waves that are hidden in the
Darkness of night, still turn boats,
Capsized by the enormous vast
Presence that no one sees but still
In essence we feel we're "safer," guided
By the way of the darkest truths light.

It controls each person, to hide unique
Truths with our own vague, hidden lie,
Make sure we all know it's there,
My how we stumble upon the nail
In the dark, whilst cleaning our visible
Skins surface of debris. It's all you see,
The "devil" is that cessation of this pain,
This suffering foot that bleeds.

You turn the corner and find yourself
Unawares in the darkness of this light,
Hidden underneath your cotton enclosure,
It will lead you in "earnest," it will show you the way,
It will empty your purse of quarters, it will make
Sure the suns light can never find you in the fullness of
Natures own "un-important" borders.
Next page