You've never felt truly alone
or devastatingly despondent
until the only warmth you felt
was the warmth of your own tears
caressing your cheeks,
and the only sound you heard
was the sound of your sobs
echoing through the dark,
until the darkness of your room
was your only embrace,
And somehow...
somehow...
that empty pit of despair,
that knot in your stomach,
that void in your chest,
was the only slither of proof
that you still felt anything
at all.
~L.Y
《~~~~▪︎¤▪︎~~~~》
A/N
It's weird how I suddenly felt okay after writing this poem. Poetry has this way of just getting everything out. You feel lighter after getting all the heavy stuff out. And that's the magic of it...it's the key to the shackles binding you to your heartache and at the same time it binds you to the beauty in life.
YOU ARE READING
Bleeding Poetry
PoetryOur hearts bleed poetry when we fail to speak. So we bleed our emotions on to paper, in the form of words. Our deepest emotions spilled out on a single page and for a moment all we do is feel.
