#bleedingwords
I smell of promises unkept,
Of abandonment
And torment,
Of events planned
But not once attended.
I smell of deeds and vows,
Of scars and bows.
I stink
Of no comings,
But goings.
I stink of lies
And sometimes of unsaid words.
I stink too deep,
Too hard to keep.
I wash it off all I might,
But couldn't get it out of their sights.
The smell's so hard to ignore,
Telling all my lost lores.
I'll stink again
With screams and hurls,
Be abandoned
And left with words unburned.
6d ago
May 29, 2026 at 1:29 AM UTC
can we change someone
or is that just a beautiful lie
we tell ourselves
to make staying easier?
we are made like different skies,
even twins carry different storms.
two minds don't merge
they collide,
they resist.
they say love can change a person.
no...
love is not a sculptor.
it cannot carve new souls
out of stubborn stone.
"i'll change for you", they say,
soft as a promise,
fragile as smoke
there,
then gone.
people don't change
because they are asked to.
they change
when something inside them breaks
or when they lose
what they never thought they would.
and even then,
nothing is certain.
so no,
we cannot change someone.
we can only stand at the edge,
watching
as they either become
someone new,
or remain
a storm
we were never meant to calm
Apr 5
Apr 5, 2026 at 12:34 AM UTC
You bleed
as if the blood in your body
traveled the whole world,
only to spill out
through your fingertips,
aimless, uncontained.
You press a tissue,
a Band-Aid,
but nothing stops the flow.
You don’t know
how to stop bleeding.
Oct 18, 2025
Oct 18, 2025 at 9:41 AM UTC
I broke me.
Not in the ways
people see.
Not in the way
you think it starts—
with a moment,
with a choice.
It began quietly,
the way a storm whispers
before it rips through everything.
The weight of things
pressing on me
until I could no longer tell
where I ended
and the pain began.
I broke me.
I didn't need anyone else
to hurt me.
I didn't need the world to tell me
I wasn't enough,
because I already knew that truth
too well.
There were no words
loud enough to drown the silence inside,
no love that could stitch the cracks
I wore like a second skin.
So I found a way to feel
something—
anything.
The blade became my breath,
the only thing that made me real
when everything else felt fake.
Each line,
each scar
was a plea,
a confession,
a cry
that no one could hear.
I broke me.
Not because I wanted to die—
but because I didn’t know how to live
with the weight of all the things
I could never say.
And when the bleeding stopped,
it wasn’t relief.
It was emptiness,
a hollow quiet where the pain used to be.
And I wondered
if this would ever end,
if I’d ever find a way
to unbreak myself.
But I broke me—
and sometimes,
that’s the hardest thing to forgive.
Apr 21, 2025
Apr 21, 2025 at 6:22 PM UTC
don’t think you’ll get away with this!
you pushed an innocent soul into the abyss.
‘sacrilege’, i say -
what a terrible way…
to enslave a wounded angel;
pluck away at its shrewd feathers;
torture it for wits;
and for what?
some cheeky wordplay?
how could you!
how dare you watch it bleed -
through the trappings of your greed.
have you no pity?
have you no mercy?
are you so bereft of compassion,
that you’d go so far as to maim a messenger of God,
just to have what you need?
let it out, i say!
let it free.
none of this is fair,
i know… i agree!
but you never had the right -
to steal the light:
from a spirit so bright,
in the stillness of the night.
it’ll all be forgotten,
should you accept the blame.
perhaps, find a piece of rock to maim.
not a soul so benign,
even in such misery it prays -
‘forgive him for his sins, my Lord,
for i have done the same.’
Nov 27, 2024
Nov 27, 2024 at 11:28 AM UTC
I am incapable
I am insufficient
Unworthy
To walk the path of man
What I have down
Or what I thought I did
Is inexcusable
My abilities over reached me
And now your gone.
I am now left with
The hidden messages in your
Bleeding words
Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 6:11 PM UTC