#bile - Hello Poetry

What is this feeling in my stomach? The butterflies flutter nonstop—I can hear their wings beating beneath my skin. I feel them shift from side to side, Claiming what little remains of me. What is it? What is this bitter taste rising through my throat, resting on my tongue? Why can’t I hear the butterflies anymore? Why do I still feel this? My mouth opens, and all I spit is blood and glass. The sour bile of what the butterflies once were grows thick—and I can do nothing. “Spit them out, regurgitate them, let them go!” I can’t. I press my chest, and slowly my arms bind themselves around my belly, Cradle of cutting kisses—kisses that now hurt, And no longer heal the way they used to. I rise from mourning, only to fall again, and the butterflies begin to flutter once more, But they no longer beat like drums or echo like thunder. They don’t crash against my walls or hide in my corners… They are there, but not alive. They try to climb. I feel them fighting each other, pushing for space up my esophagus— Once a path for all things good, Now a tunnel for all things painful. I hear them scream; their tiny voices pierce my eardrums and shake my bones. They want out. And I understand them well: What good is a body that dances among broken hearts? What use are shards beneath my feet, Reminding me how little I’ve felt? What comfort is the weeping of a soul grown weary? What joy lies in the bottomless hollow of a body fed by illusions? They were made for the sun—for joy, for love— And all I can offer is an umbrella For the relentless rain storming inside me. Cold, decaying rain that stains the walls and soils my shoes, instead of washing them clean. They’re almost free— About to escape. But I swallow them down once more, Just as I’ve swallowed the bile of melancholy, Just as I’ve swallowed the tears that swore, they would soften the blades of my sharp-edged heart. I feel them sink slowly, Their wings now still—they’ve accepted their fate. I don’t want to let them go, Because they’re all I have left. They’re all I have of what once was pain. They’re all I have of what once was passion… They’re all I have of what once was love.

0

Jul 6, 2025

Jul 6, 2025 at 2:59 PM UTC

lavieonblue

Between wings and tears

What is this feeling in my stomach? The butterflies flutter nonstop—I can hear their wings beating beneath my skin. I feel them shift from side to side, Claiming what little remains of me. What is it? What is this bitter taste rising through my throat, resting on my tongue? Why can’t I hear the butterflies anymore? Why do I still feel this? My mouth opens, and all I spit is blood and glass. The sour bile of what the butterflies once were grows thick—and I can do nothing. “Spit them out, regurgitate them, let them go!” I can’t. I press my chest, and slowly my arms bind themselves around my belly, Cradle of cutting kisses—kisses that now hurt, And no longer heal the way they used to. I rise from mourning, only to fall again, and the butterflies begin to flutter once more, But they no longer beat like drums or echo like thunder. They don’t crash against my walls or hide in my corners… They are there, but not alive. They try to climb. I feel them fighting each other, pushing for space up my esophagus— Once a path for all things good, Now a tunnel for all things painful. I hear them scream; their tiny voices pierce my eardrums and shake my bones. They want out. And I understand them well: What good is a body that dances among broken hearts? What use are shards beneath my feet, Reminding me how little I’ve felt? What comfort is the weeping of a soul grown weary? What joy lies in the bottomless hollow of a body fed by illusions? They were made for the sun—for joy, for love— And all I can offer is an umbrella For the relentless rain storming inside me. Cold, decaying rain that stains the walls and soils my shoes, instead of washing them clean. They’re almost free— About to escape. But I swallow them down once more, Just as I’ve swallowed the bile of melancholy, Just as I’ve swallowed the tears that swore, they would soften the blades of my sharp-edged heart. I feel them sink slowly, Their wings now still—they’ve accepted their fate. I don’t want to let them go, Because they’re all I have left. They’re all I have of what once was pain. They’re all I have of what once was passion… They’re all I have of what once was love.

47

A heaving dog struggles to its feet. Streaks of the sun, egg yolk, lemonade, coalesce in foam. I look it in the eye as it limps away.

0

Apr 26, 2023

Apr 26, 2023 at 2:04 PM UTC

leocardo_reis

Bile in a dog's *****

A heaving dog struggles to its feet. Streaks of the sun, egg yolk, lemonade, coalesce in foam. I look it in the eye as it limps away.

8

I think my mind just threw up in my subconscious. Chunks of metaphor, smelling the bile of an idiots question..

0

Apr 10, 2020

Apr 10, 2020 at 5:55 AM UTC

poetic-t

Listening To Idiots

I think my mind just threw up in my subconscious. Chunks of metaphor, smelling the bile of an idiots question..

5

full of bile, i need to ***** acid reflux makes it worse, but i deserve this. i'm hurting myself but that's alright. i want this, i need this, i can stop at any time.

0

Jan 2, 2020

Jan 2, 2020 at 1:21 AM UTC

nothingisasitseems

full

full of bile, i need to ***** acid reflux makes it worse, but i deserve this. i'm hurting myself but that's alright. i want this, i need this, i can stop at any time.

9

Blood rush, Brain chained, Teeth tied, And here I sit Scent Intoxicating Invading Smoking out defense Those succulent dimples, That clicking mind, That husky hooking voice. Substitutes of a hungrier passion. I feel lost, I want some, I need to forget. Obsession is unbecoming, Unwanted internal conflict Ripe with dead dreams Fighting harsh realities Simplicity is all I want, But each day that lie gets harder to say. You are living In my space Without payment. Leave me, please.

0

Dec 16, 2019

Dec 16, 2019 at 2:29 AM UTC

M_Grant_Teague

Blush and Bile

Blood rush, Brain chained, Teeth tied, And here I sit Scent Intoxicating Invading Smoking out defense Those succulent dimples, That clicking mind, That husky hooking voice. Substitutes of a hungrier passion. I feel lost, I want some, I need to forget. Obsession is unbecoming, Unwanted internal conflict Ripe with dead dreams Fighting harsh realities Simplicity is all I want, But each day that lie gets harder to say. You are living In my space Without payment. Leave me, please.

27

She delved in white, something so pure that was seamless as though nothing could contaminate what was enthral in looks. But beneath the demure was a weapon pointing at others hearts. Onyx points, seeping with abhorrence. showing that there was more than her false pretences. If a wolf has a blood lust it was her, velvet soft, but blood seeps beneath even the purest of looks.. And hers was bile. She stand there like a light in the woods of loneliness, but get to close and her arrow will pierce even the most loving heart. Hear her white noise confusing the reality of a loving heart. Bleeding it dry, till only a corpse of white lays before her. And she smiles...

0

Jan 12, 2019

Jan 12, 2019 at 4:20 PM UTC

poetic-t

Nothing Is Pure In A Gown Of White

She delved in white, something so pure that was seamless as though nothing could contaminate what was enthral in looks. But beneath the demure was a weapon pointing at others hearts. Onyx points, seeping with abhorrence. showing that there was more than her false pretences. If a wolf has a blood lust it was her, velvet soft, but blood seeps beneath even the purest of looks.. And hers was bile. She stand there like a light in the woods of loneliness, but get to close and her arrow will pierce even the most loving heart. Hear her white noise confusing the reality of a loving heart. Bleeding it dry, till only a corpse of white lays before her. And she smiles...

23

The framed sign where I work says "smile it's time to be happy" I see it every single day, it's so freaking sappy I look at it in disgust A simple sign that means so much It reminds me of all I want, but can't obtain Everyday it leaves me feeling a bit more drained A bit more inhumane, a bit more broken It's sad how it makes me feel, this simple token Somedays I want to rip it off the wall I'll just tell them it got broke in the fall Other days I pray it will come true Then I would be happy just like you But still there it hangs And every day it says the same Made to endure it's mocking words I know to others my rant seems so absurd But in the belly of the beast it's impossible to smile When drowning in all this bile

0

May 11, 2016

May 11, 2016 at 11:48 AM UTC

Pauline_Morris

The Sign

The framed sign where I work says "smile it's time to be happy" I see it every single day, it's so freaking sappy I look at it in disgust A simple sign that means so much It reminds me of all I want, but can't obtain Everyday it leaves me feeling a bit more drained A bit more inhumane, a bit more broken It's sad how it makes me feel, this simple token Somedays I want to rip it off the wall I'll just tell them it got broke in the fall Other days I pray it will come true Then I would be happy just like you But still there it hangs And every day it says the same Made to endure it's mocking words I know to others my rant seems so absurd But in the belly of the beast it's impossible to smile When drowning in all this bile

18

My life has been overwhelming to say the lest I'm sure ready for deaths sweet release The sorrow that has filled my cup Has burst over and swallowed me up Now in the belly of the beast Waiting for deaths release Drowning in all this bile As problems just pile Afraid to see one more day Afraid of all that's coming my way I want to close my eyes, never to open I can't help it my mind is broken My spirit is crushed My life doesn't mean much I pray for release God can do that for me at lest

0

Apr 27, 2016

Apr 27, 2016 at 2:00 PM UTC

Pauline_Morris

Drowning in Bile

My life has been overwhelming to say the lest I'm sure ready for deaths sweet release The sorrow that has filled my cup Has burst over and swallowed me up Now in the belly of the beast Waiting for deaths release Drowning in all this bile As problems just pile Afraid to see one more day Afraid of all that's coming my way I want to close my eyes, never to open I can't help it my mind is broken My spirit is crushed My life doesn't mean much I pray for release God can do that for me at lest

16

The framed sign where I work says "smile it's time to be happy" I see it every single day, it's so freaking sappy I look at it in disgust A simple sign that means so much It reminds me of all I want, but can't obtain Everyday it leaves me feeling a bit more drained A bit more inhumane, a bit more broken It's sad how it makes me feel, this simple token Somedays I want to rip it off the wall I'll just tell them it got broke in the fall Other days I pray it will come true Then I would be happy just like you But still there it hangs And every day it says the same Made to endure it's mocking words I know to others my rant seems so absurd But in the belly of the beast it's impossible to smile When drowning in all this bile

0

Mar 22, 2016

Mar 22, 2016 at 11:38 AM UTC

Pauline_Morris

The Sign

The framed sign where I work says "smile it's time to be happy" I see it every single day, it's so freaking sappy I look at it in disgust A simple sign that means so much It reminds me of all I want, but can't obtain Everyday it leaves me feeling a bit more drained A bit more inhumane, a bit more broken It's sad how it makes me feel, this simple token Somedays I want to rip it off the wall I'll just tell them it got broke in the fall Other days I pray it will come true Then I would be happy just like you But still there it hangs And every day it says the same Made to endure it's mocking words I know to others my rant seems so absurd But in the belly of the beast it's impossible to smile When drowning in all this bile

18

The sweet taste of hope The spicy taste of thrill The bitter taste of reject The sour taste of neglect You learn to love the taste of bile Everything comes up But you keep it in Everytime. The pain almost hurts more Swallow. Swallow Swallow. You learn to hate the taste of blood Tongue in pieces Soul is shattered You can't find the words for how empty & small You've always felt inside So you shape. The physical To become the emotional Maybe you'll find the words if you can visualize Maybe if I see I can understand why I feel so Impractical & Frail inside

0

Jun 10, 2015

Jun 10, 2015 at 11:35 PM UTC

maria-cordero

Porcelain (& down the rabbit hole I go)

The sweet taste of hope The spicy taste of thrill The bitter taste of reject The sour taste of neglect You learn to love the taste of bile Everything comes up But you keep it in Everytime. The pain almost hurts more Swallow. Swallow Swallow. You learn to hate the taste of blood Tongue in pieces Soul is shattered You can't find the words for how empty & small You've always felt inside So you shape. The physical To become the emotional Maybe you'll find the words if you can visualize Maybe if I see I can understand why I feel so Impractical & Frail inside

26

The warm cocoon breaks, Spilling a tired body onto the floor. Panicked, I hurtle to the door. I kneel before my God And spill my prayer of meat On feet, body, crown and seat. Clutching my saviour, I draw a ragged breath, Pleading, demanding for death. The storm abates its tired refrain. I rest my head against the wall. I'm sure I swear "never again", And back to sleep I fall.

0

Mar 8, 2015

Mar 8, 2015 at 6:55 PM UTC

mv-blake

Bilious

The warm cocoon breaks, Spilling a tired body onto the floor. Panicked, I hurtle to the door. I kneel before my God And spill my prayer of meat On feet, body, crown and seat. Clutching my saviour, I draw a ragged breath, Pleading, demanding for death. The storm abates its tired refrain. I rest my head against the wall. I'm sure I swear "never again", And back to sleep I fall.

13

If only I could have you on me, Like the clothes on my back Have you closer to my skin, Enough to find out each inch Had a name of it’s own You can be the cold that always have my bones Shivering And my teeth chattering And every inch of my skin Feeling bothered But it makes me Grin wider

0

Sep 25, 2014

Sep 25, 2014 at 11:05 PM UTC

kayeberry

Sshiver

If only I could have you on me, Like the clothes on my back Have you closer to my skin, Enough to find out each inch Had a name of it’s own You can be the cold that always have my bones Shivering And my teeth chattering And every inch of my skin Feeling bothered But it makes me Grin wider

12