#blood poems on Hello Poetry

Marlene Bailey Jun 22

Let me paint you a picture.

Red glasses filled with empty words.
Mirrors that don’t catch your reflection.
Blue and white lilies covering the floor—a floor I once knew.
It is the same floor I spend half of my days crying on.

There’s music.
Music filling the voids of an empty space where my heart was supposed to be.
It resonates through every cavity, through every bone, but my dead soul cannot hear it.
The blood is no longer running through my veins,
And my lips—once filled with love and affection—are as dark as the moment.
How easy is it to die of a broken heart?
Is it really broken? Or am I going crazy while I watch it fall and shatter around my lily-covered floor?

I crawl to pick up the pieces,
And I cut myself on every little bit,
But there’s nothing coming out of my fingers—just the sorrow of a few tears.

Empty.
Empty body, empty eyes, empty mind, empty soul of mine.
Should I remake my heart? Should I get the glue and put it all together again?
Or should I just keep cutting myself with the pieces?

Maybe I should let it be as it is.
There’s beauty in a broken heart.

I wrote this up in the bus on my way to work after hearing “Comptine d’un autre été, l’après-midi”

#red #glass #dead #soul #music #veins #blood #affection #lilies #tears

Marisa Lu Makil Jun 17

Eight, Six, Three, Five.

I was not raised by my sister's mother
Though the same woman raised she and me
I did not live with the same older brothers
Though we lived with the same older three

I was not cared for by the same father
As my sister had caring for her
The same person, he was, but I guess that's different
She had softness and I felt his burns.

I did not live in the same home as she
Though we both grew up on Fallow Street
I guess we're all changed by the parents we have
And more by the parents we meet

I did not have my sister's childhood
Hers seemed very soft to my eyes
While mine was a horror, tragic and bleak,
I fought very hard for my prize

My sister was raised in a different house
Different parents had she
We both grew up with the same people
But both had different families

As I got older, it took long to learn
That though we grew in the same mud,
My blood shared with her is thinner than water
For water is thicker than our blood.

The same two people raised my sister and I–JK and BK. We have the same brothers, P, N, and J. But I was raised with a mother who didn't understand me and a Father who didn't want to. She got the parents who had learned from raising me and decided to try harder with her. I got the brothers who should have protected me and all three failed to do so. She got the brothers who would have done anything for her. I love my family. I love who they are today and I am learning to love myself as well. But some days, it's so easy to remember how things were–they should have protected me. The five of them should have been my protection, but instead I had to learn to hide who I was and what horror lay beneath my smiling exterior because I had to protect myself since no one else would.
I love my family. I am fortunate to have three brothers who love me, a sister who is trying to love me, and parents who are trying to learn who I am now. It's just hard to remember my fortune when it's stained with the memories of the people I shouldn't have needed to mistrust. I should have been able to rely on them, and it still hurts no matter how much or how often I have forgiven them. I still remember.

#mother #sister #brothers #father #damage #pain #blood #depression #growingup #water

marci Jun 18

i want it dead

i want it dead, the wait, the ache
the breath i lose each time i wake
but the hope just rots and curls
and sinks beneath this ******* world

i want the "maybe" set on fire
the silence hung on razor wire
i want the dreams to come to life
the "someday" slaughtered with a knife

i want the future we won't hold
to freeze and crack and die in the cold
i don't want to play pretend
i want it dead. i want the end.

i don't want the wound that distance makes
the soul of us that daylight breaks
i don't want to play pretend
i want it dead. i want the end.

#blood #violence #emotions #death #thoughts

marci Jun 19

why clouds bleed

maybe the rain is the sky
trying to cry slow enough
for us to call it beautiful.

if it falls too fast,
we drown. it rises.
but sometimes
a light rain is all the sky can cry

the grey streches til it tears
it swells with what it wants to say
thunder never asks permission
it snaps.
cracks.
as if grief.
as if memory.
like sadness that's left
too quiet to scream

we stand under it anyway
our hoods behind the nape
palms to the sky
pretending it's just weather.

#blood #violence #emotions #death #thoughts

Emery Feine Jun 17

It Wasn't Mine

I was sinking to the bottom of the ocean
I hoped you hadn't pushed me
I looked at you with tears in my eyes
I hoped you didn't see

I was waiting for you
Waiting for you to return
I was waiting for you to call
I hope one day I'll learn

I saw you choose your friends over me
But did I cross the line?
And I saw blood on your hands
I just hoped it wasn't mine

death to the lover that you were dreaming of

#blood #hands #love #heartbreak #friends #waiting #tears

Emery Feine Jun 17

mi sangre

mantienes mi mente activa
tu elevaste a mis penas
me mantienes viva
eres el sangre que corre por mis venas

who knew that I could be so close to something so far

#blood #sangre #veins #venas #love #amor

p1st0l Jun 11

red

red the color of love
the color of blood
so does love make you bleed
or do you bleed for love?

my fav color

#red #love #blood #color

Sophie Jun 9

Children are dying

I see some kids heading home from school,
bent over from the weight on their backpack.
In Palestine, children bear the politician’s schemes on their backs.
And bend further down,
grieving their parents’ lifeless forms.
Children, who used to be whole,
have their limbs torn off,
skin hanging from their faces and hands.

On my visit to the shop,
I see a kid throwing a tantrum over not getting sweets.
In Palestine, children hear cries of the wounded,
screaming for help.
While the world stands silent, aid delayed.
Red capes, a stone in their hands and a imaginary knife in their
teeth, they die as martyrs.

Politicians, no way you’d wield ruthless might,
If they were white children in your sight.

#blood #pain #politics #child #truth #waiting #children #die #death #human

p1st0l Jun 2

Cuts

Blood on my hands and the bathroom floor
When will this stop? I wonder as it slowly pours
The blood comes from the cuts on my arm
How did I get here? What have I done?

This is about self harm

#selfharm #sad #cuts #blood

Laokos May 27

alter prayer

another wasted battlefield.
ground smoking,
haze-choked.
bright afternoon zenith
crowning the only victor—
war.

sunlight skates
across the maze of bodies,
dried blood,
dreams ripped open like unsent letters.
it glints from the angle of death
and dances a shuffle
to music from a silent plane.

what am I to you
now that the wind
carries this stench?

a promise wrapped in vengeance.
a rotten kiss
pressed to your lips
passed down the bloodline.

the crowd roars with laughter.
ghosts foot the bill.

the water table rises
to meet the candle flame—
a younger sibling
finally getting their growth spurt.

I am weightless in the flooding,
drowning in fire,
burning in the afterglow
of a thousand dying engines
cooling to the rhythm
of hell-soaked hearts
spent on passion.

I am you
in the longest shadow
of the face you hide.

I am the violence of survival
strutting its stuff,
proud as the blood-soaked mane
of a lion.

I am the beast
that preys.

ahh, men.

#alter #prayer #war #death #vengeance #rotten #hell #blood #violence #survival