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In torturings and pains,
all arteries and veins
.

You stole my heart.
Why couldn't you have just
taken every vessel
with You too?
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Sheikh Muizz Sep 2015
Ben stands deliberately imposing,
his arms crossed and his stern face
reminding us all we’re x minutes late.

We are each a cell.
Circulating the city’s veins
by foot, tyre and train.

The city doesn’t die, but it does grow old.
And when its veins tire from carrying its load
necessary roadworks interrupt its flow;

Like open wounds. Each yellow hardhat
a fingernail on the invisible hand
of an omnipotent surgeon.
Payton Hayes Jul 2018
I do not need alcohol to have
fun.
I do not need cigarettes to be
cool.
I do not need dope to be
creative.
I need to feel you in my
veins.
I need to breathe you in with every
heartbeat.
And even if you’re just a high,
I want to never come
down.
I do need you.
Thank you to everyone commenting, reacting to, and liking my poem! If you enjoyed this poem and want to see more of my writing, follow me or check out my website, www.wonderforest.net! Also, my poetry book will be out on the site and on Amazon, April 16th!!
Mikaila May 2014
Thin, white wrists.
Bone white
Like china
And just as brittle.
They make that coarse, scraping sound when they touch one another.
The kind of sound that delicate, expensive teacups make when stacked
The wrong way.
It makes me cringe.

Little blue veins kiss the surface of them,
Hissing and sizzling when the air gets
Too close
Like tiny snakes.

These wrists
Have made promises.
They have
Borne loads.
These wrists have snapped like twigs
Under the weight of a heavy,
Punishing love.
But, pressed back together the way they'd been,
They hardened oncemore
Like stone
And the cracks and fissures
Sank inside again
And smooth, unmarred, delicate white skin emerged
To begin the process over.

At night the snakes whisper and murmur against my cheek in their sleep
And sometimes, quite suddenly,
They sink in their fangs
And I awaken with a start,
A sharp pain radiating out to my fingertips
Like a shock.

Last night I felt their strikes by the hour
One,
Two,
Three, more.
And this morning a strange... fullness
Began in my wrists
And seeped out
Up along my arms
Through my collarbones and down
Into my heart.

Perhaps it was the venom
Working
But where it spread I
Settled
Like an old stone wall.
Like the halls of a castle
That has seen too much death
And too many kings.

I sank into myself
For the first time
And the ground felt heavily solid
And I felt
Only the hollow hiss
Of little blue and green serpents
Dreaming inside me
And that
Was something like certainty,
Although of what
I still don't
Know.
The Napkin Poet Dec 2016
Every ounce of pressure against my veins,
like the flood of heavy summer rains.
Trying to escape the coating of my flesh,
internal tensions I could not oppress.
I hear crickets, smell the morning dew.
All I can ever concentrate on is you.
Made to feel nervous but oh so calm,
sometimes even sweet like cherry lip balm.
A moment of combustion then release,
your tongue wanders onto my body, into a crease.
I'll never care if I get rich,
so ever long as you ease my twitch.
Stale smoke and the scent of butane,
breath seeps into me like a bloodstain.
You, a child at heart
and I, a freak into abstract art, like Ad Reinhardt.
What a fine creation, our own constellation,
an innovation, better than intoxication.
Meera Jan 6
What flows in your veins
Blood or Anguish??
Sometimes your poems kick me in the gut and sometimes they soothe me with love
Vierra Apr 2017
Light will give way to darkness, ever challenging for the attention of mere mortals.

The dark will be thick and comforatable. A dim ahi flickers in pō and ka noe. It will be delightful when ke ahi make.

Lā will return and the shade will be the only cool the natives will have.

The gods smile in the background, ever watchful of the dance.

Lono and Pele dance in rythem, while Kūkailimoku kahea with Hi'iaka.

It rains here in Waianae because she loves me, the one from yellow and red. Bird feathers are her drapes of honor and bloodline. The anae will run again as the rivers open because of the ua. Her particular nature revolves around the seasons of unordinary times when plants are fed and coffee is feasted.

I am a drunkard of blood that does not belong to me. She is the one of whom I yearn to taste. The blood of Royalty above Royalty.

Please hear my words that I cannot speak of.

He mea iki, Ka ikaikakapu. I am of Oahu and she is of Hawai'i.
Only a sea's voyage away.
kevin hamilton Jun 2017
at dusk
the lights went out
and never came back
left my earthly husk
through the lips
the whiskey spoke
and it sounded nice
easy party trick
broke into your medicine cabinet
and saw my face
in the bathroom mirror

stay awake
and we'll stare at each other
until we become familiar.
Alex Gifford Sep 9
What once was fire in your eyes,
is smoldering,
about to die.

What once was fire in your veins,
is spilling out,
it slowly wanes.

Lost in a fog,
Drained of your blood,
Spine feeling soft,
Face in the mud.

Now fan the embers in your eyes,
consume what's left,
by fire baptize.
Andra May 2016
How did you end up
flowing in my veins?
I breathe you
with every second that passes
and I cry with tears
that taste like you.

Pathetic,
right?

I should make myself
a tea
and calm down...
as if this could
heal me...

How can you heal
with an ordinary tea,
a chronic problem?

Doctor,
give me
ten boxes of aspirin.

we
have
to
overcome
the
cold
Katelyn Billat Sep 2017
For when he appears,
My lungs fill with flowers 
And for a moment I 
Forget to breathe.



The slumberling caterpillar 
In my stomach
Performs metamorphosis
And flutters around
Trying to break free.



The rivers named veins
Fill and rush to my chest,
To my head and
I forget to think.



For when he smiles,
His eyes come alive,
And I wonder
Does he thinks of me this way.
My memories is going in and out like a daze.
The brain is complicated like a maze.
Yet intriguing in so many ways.
Images come and go, some usually stays.
I went from young to old so many days.
Time, I would never thought to embrace.
So much pain is written on these chains.
Only little change could really be explained.
Maintain and preserve the brain remains
Explain the nerves that’s surrounding my veins?
Maybe I’ll just refrain that question it pertains.
Locked in my skull where my brain is contained.
Marte Lindholm Feb 2018
Waiting for you
Starts a fire inside of me
I feel it in my heart
The pain induced by the flames
And they heat up
Making the blood in my veins
Start boiling
Slowly killing me

Still waiting
I feel the anxiety
Crawling up
My throat
Spreading its vines
Thickening
Soon choking me
Slowly killing me


The only thing
Left to do
Is to pray that
The fire inside of me
Will burn the crawling vines
To stop the unbearable choking
And I'll finally be able
To breathe again
What to do when everything feels like a mess and I stand in the middle, all tangled up
Pyrrha Sep 2018
My poems of love are empty I feel
Because I haven't met someone to fill them
So to whomever may be in my future
Though they aren't about you now, they will be
I desperately desire a day when my poetry feels real
And no longer appear as letters dressed up to look pretty
One day I hope they are filled with something warm
As if my love for you will flow through them like veins
And jump-start the heart of all my passion stored and saved for you
Tompson Aug 28
The sun is rising
I wake up
Cigarettes and coffee
my drugs in this morning
The day is passing by
Pills are making my mind
The night has come
I need to get ******
Give me a line
Needles in my hand
My veins burning like your love
The smell of blood
Death its in my bed
It's all what I have
Since
You left.
Pyrrha Feb 12
You aren't just gold and starlight
you are my every word
my dialect, my stanza, my every thought
you leave me tongue tied

You are my entire language,
you make my speech so clumsy
all my words are tripping over themselves
just to please you and only you

You are my linguist dream,
I love to study the poetry in your veins
the sonnets in your eyes,
the limericks in your lips

You are literature incarnate,
and I worship you
Valuable
External
Internal
Nice
System
Seeps
Sometimes, I wish my soul
Wasn't so sensitive
I extend my exposed hand out
For others to grab
Sometimes, my reach
Is acknowledged and held onto
Other times, it's crushed
With the overwhelming and
Presumptuous weight
Of being a burden and
A disappointment

This pain is very strong
This suffering tugs and
Drags me down
A sinkhole that I don't even
Notice I'm falling through

Until it's too late
Until I feel lightheaded
When my heart beats
In fluttering patterns
Until my chest tightens
And I feel a knot in my throat

It's hard to swallow this air I breathe
For at times, it's so dense and thick
But there's no fog, no illusion
Just allusions to the fact
That I'm tired...
Fatigued...
Exhausted...
A barren tree
A lot of life to give
But an abandoned seed
In my mind
That's what my demons tell me

This is my story of triumph
That I'm still writing
This is my journey
That I'm still fighting.
This poem centers around my anxiety. It's something that I struggle with, and as of recent, I've dove into writing more about it. It definitely helps chip away at the marble every time I shape it into a form of art. A reminder to anyone who struggles with anxiety and depression, that you're not alone, there are ways to cope, and you're loved, always.
CK Baker Dec 2016
It’s all you’ve ever seen
in a midnight’s dream
the zero sum games
and exorcised demons
asinine plunges
on tunkwa brides
phantom fingers cradling
the ragged red dress

shadow hands
clasp at the floodgates
lava fields boil
through scorched amber veins
needles pierce
the look out
where flames dance wildly
over boneyard grounds

deep red pedestals
behind bleeding walls
empty halls and doorways
throughout the sinful nest
bulging eyes and blood rush
in a dark crimson sky
a funeral, before I die
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