Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
There's a barbed wire encasing your heart
no broken parts need to be held together by it
the silent sound of blood trickling down my arm
the harm I've done to myself led to no result,
like a knife in a cult I am covered in blood
and the blood I bled barely seemed to move you.
This was usual because the barbed wire ribcage
has kept your heart safe but has also kept it safe.

There's a barbed wire encasing your heart
and I promise I wil let the wires break
but never mistake it for your heart.

There's a barbed wire encasing your heart
not meant to keep things in but to keep things out,
to keep doubt on the realities of love,
to feed enough companionship in loneliness.
He pens pretty poetry on a paper pad
hoping the mistakes he made would fade,
He counts each and every syllable to be safe
but the metaphors don't speak the fact.
He pens pretty poetry on a paper pad
to display the heartbeats and darker shades
of living the days of replayed heartbreak
just so that he could bury hurt in sand.

His right hand writes away the tears
the years have made him grown bitter;
he shrivels as the roses start to wither
and poems become scribbled cries no one hears.
He ends tear-stained poems before it gets torn
with last words that read loving you was war.
There's much to say
about your face,
the symmetry of it
makes me lose focus often,
your perfect blue eyes
like a cerulean sky
so mysterious in its shape
like a soot filled fireplace.
Your small mouth
are where best kisses are housed.
Your eyebrows arent too dark;
they are a canvas for live art
settled with or without a brow pencil.
You are the prettiest person I've ever met
with roses for cheeks stained crimson red.

There's much to say
about your face.
Next page