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Poetic T Sep 28
They think, that I'm like
   a disowned  feline...

Throwing me out first floor
                    windows..

Do I land on my feet...…
               No I land on my ribs,

on my head, only scrapes..

But my ribs are broken like
             a chess board... one wrong move
and its check mate..

I'm dying where I lie...
             choking on the blood of my
             ******* world moves...


But I landed on my wrist...


They'll never catch my broken *******,

   broken slang.
      

But they knew what a hand held with another
                                                      meant..
a mangled ******* as I survived another day.


I came back like a bee looking to sting,
                     but the ones who fell out there nest


were stung by another not me..


I'll walk another day.. been stung a few times..
             but I learnt my lesson...


Don't mess with the nest unless you

                want to be in anaphylactic shock of


some random fools words

trying to prove,
                               some insecurity for an abandoned




father figure, that's compensated
by a bullet,
                          and a promise of we got your back.
Anastasia Sep 13
you took my wrist
in your hand
and traced my cuts
with your thumb
you caressed them
and kissed them
and spoke
few words
but you said
never
again
Tammy Cusick Aug 23
*
Piercing eyes
pale white gowns,

furrowed brow's
big bright crowns,

horizontal smiles
across floor to ceiling paintings
limp of emotion,

distraught in sepia
color at rest,

mildew in the teeth
callous on the tongue,
nails in the feet
dragging dead weight,

wrapped in burlap
tied in loose ribbon,

clammy cold hands
only for the given,
dilated.

red in the face
angry with a fist
distraught in the heart,
spliced across the wrist.
fray narte Jul 7
you —
kissing the scars on my skin;
such a delicate, carefully crafted
form of poetry, honey,
i will lay it down apollo's altar.

your lips.
my wrists.

again.
and again.

and for a moment there,
they don't look like
a bedlam of veins cut open.
for a moment there,
they look nowhere near
the metaphors
used in place of my self-destruction.
danna22081 Jul 5
It might be said:

I slowly, yet eventually
Peered through the keyhole of a three-dimensional world.
How I saw all three? I’m not quite sure,
But all contained elements more distinct from the other,
So distinct, I don’t remember them all.

The keyhole, nothing more
Than a piece of rusted, brittle metal
Coiled, and carved… intricated into the miniscule
Dents which hold the answer to these curves
Contained within my nerves… ready to be twisted.

This room… these dimensions,
I can no longer class them under one area.
They were consumed by emotions, by values,
Purposefully, and tortuously designated,
But I just can’t… remember.

I can’t remember them, but these dimensions were meant for me.
They must have been, because I hold the key
To unlock the hole requiring the simplest
Twist of a persistent wrist,
But where is this hole I so consistently yearn for?
How nice is it for some people to symbolically express their thoughts through their writing? And many readers often interpret them differently.
She Writes Mar 13
Your words cut deeper
Than the blade at my wrist
Bohemian Feb 18
Before the day when my mind flickers
Before the night when fear grabs my wrist
Before the moment of emancipation

When I lose my sanity,
To the courageous fear beneath the beds of my heart.
When the flood comes in dark,
And the moon ditches without leaving a mark.
I sink and sink.

The way I feel possessed,
The way mad I am,
The way I know not about my constancy.

I know I shall stumble,
I know I may fall,
Amid this,
This which is no revelry.
IncholPoem Jan 13
WRITE  and  WRIST



Write  a  wrong  sentence.
Write  a  tomato story
            of  a  farmer  of
North  Ireland.



   Write  a  blind   man's
written  inability.



A  diamond   surely
touch  your  wrist.


   Your  girlfriend  surely
will  touch  your wrist.

Wrong  destiny  one  day  
surely  will
come to  touch  your
not  feet,
only  wrist.



  God  will  surely
get  down  in  Earth
to  kiss  your  wrist.
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