Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sometimes beating hard, sometimes at rest;
my heart knocks softly at the door of my chest.

As if in pain, as if to die,
As if it begs to break outside;

As if it fears the weight of my sorrow,
as if it hopes to see you tomorrow.

My heart knocks softly at the door of my chest;
sometimes beating hard, sometimes at rest.


a. (Literal Translation)

Listen to My Heart

sometimes stronger, sometimes softer;
my heart beats at the door of my chest.

as if it would hurt, as if it would die,
as if it would ask to come outside,

as if it would fear to die with me,
as if it would want to see you tomorrow too.

my heart beats at the door of my chest;
sometimes stronger, sometimes softer.

b. (Original poem in Romanian)

ascultă inima mea

când mai tare, când mai încet;
inima-mi bate la uşa din piept.

de parcă ar doare-o, de parcă-o să moară,
de parcă s-ar cere să iasă-n afară,

de parcă s-ar teme să moară cu mine,
de parcă ar vrea să te vadă şi mâine.

inima-mi bate la uşa din piept;
când mai tare, când mai încet.
The poem explores the interplay between physical sensations and emotional experiences, using the heartbeat as a metaphor for love, longing, and the vulnerability of existence. It conveys an intimate dialogue between the heart and the self, reflecting fear, desire, and hope.

The repetition of the opening and closing lines creates a cyclical structure, mimicking the constancy of the heartbeat and reinforcing the poem’s reflective nature.

The poem reflects the human condition—torn between fear of loss and the longing to love and be loved. The heart becomes a symbol of both physical life and emotional depth, embodying the fragility and resilience of existence.
Abi Winder Aug 31
anger has always been a strand in my DNA.
i inherited this from my father.

it lives buried deep in my chest.
i feel it slightly when i breathe.

a constant throb,
a pit, inside my lungs.

i feel this rage so deeply,
i am used to its presence.

i do not know what it would be like to live without it.
to breathe without it.
neth jones Mar 28
my       teeth       hurt          in       Winter
the   beginning   of   Winter     for   sure
a                      fantastic                     ache
even           when      the      wind      sits

even             the       cleanest       breaths
          draw       hard          on       my       chest
but my heart still draws on the beauty
invites   stillness       to   meet   stillness
from previous winters attendance
Consilius Feb 25
Eva
It's been three years since you left.
What were you like as a child?
Whom did you fall in love at first,
and what memories this old chest hides?

Your mom saying she gets by,
no matter how much you hate her... why?
Why is she so upset with you,
and why would she write she hoped to die?

Did everything she could, why wasn't that enough?
Wished better life for you... the times were rough.
Hoped your father's death would change you for the better?
Would have no idea if not for this latter.

It was almost half a century ago... in 1977

What were you back then? Twenty one?
On these black & white photos it seems you had fun.

Haha what is this, a love note from a guy on a bus?
He basically rejected himself, didn't even have to ask.

I see a young ******* these pages,
I side of you I never knew,
If not for this diary, I would never had a clue.
What poetry you loved, what dreams you had,
what you were like...

"I would die for love,
but I was born for life"
calypso Oct 2022
every bit, every tiny bit
i can feel the elephant foot through
my chest, there is
little to no breath, can i stop?
god, if there is anything for me
please don’t make it wait longer
tell my future i won’t be coming
earth is not my place, not anywhere i’ve been
this is too much
half my day i want to scream on the top of my lungs
for help, for solitude, for no one
why am i not heard yet?

maybe i should tell someone
that my room is a mess like my head
and i can’t keep it still, slowly filling my hands
with anything i can find, i wont rest
i cant rest
i can’t let me go
i have to become my future
i promised i won’t go
i promised things i can’t keep
just let me go, my lungs have
and the blood swells my chest
my eyes aren’t smiling
im sorry im not joyful like i used to be
so joyful, it killed me.


its not you, i promise
Evie G Jul 2022
Pull up your shirt,
Put them away.
Though it’s the same shirt some girl wore yesterday,
It’s different cause her frame is dainty and chaste,
It’s just your biology causes disgrace.

Leered at by Men,
Jeered at by girls,
Disdained by Authority , making them hurl
Told to be thankful by those less endowed
While men get their wanksfull from staring in crowds .
Cause showing a shoulder
that means I deserved it,
Cause showing my body means I don’t deserve ****.


Pull up your shirt,
Put them away.
There’s nothing to do, nothing to say.
You’ll never look pretty but Hey it’s okay!
You’ll look **** or manly or just plain perverse
I’m tryna explain all my feelings in verse,

So why can’t I just say it?

Stop staring at my *****,
thanks.
Some people need to hear this one.
Teodora Pavel Jun 2022
There is an arrow, locked away
somewhere, silenced
My heart has felt it, its caress
True consolation of one's life
That arrow, buzzing vibrato
after so many windows of my soul,
will break your chest, will
strike you dead with no notice.
I S A A C Apr 2022
I need a wishbone or a loophole
sick of you and this old soup bowl
I thought this plague would fade away
I thought your chest was my favourite place
tarot cards led me astray, I guess
I try to never compress, I try to focus on my dress
a ring that makes me smile or a vibrant hue
anything to forget about you
how about when you made butterflies erupt in my stomach
how about when you made me think I knew what love is
floating on the shipwreck waiting to be brought to shore
these moments allowed me to process and plan
for my next project, my next attack
you thought you could beat me down
think again
neth jones Mar 2022
the lumy screen
x-ray mission
counting ribs
    but courting what's in-between
trying to salvage disease
    from the pardonable cage
use corrective attractors
drag them on the screen
    and mould a mange of the dark spots
humble in an alcove
zoom in on the spot
take out your little skin leafed
pocket book
clean the cough from your throat
    and sprout  'the working words of God'
a congregation of cancer cells
    put in their place
medicine
Next page