I would've waited
a thousand lifetimes
for you to heal,
to be ready,
But to you...
I'm just a fleeting second,
irreparably broken,
a replaceable object
of insignificant importance,
Unworthy of even
a tiny speck
of patience
I so benevolently gave,
Unworthy of a flicker
of hope
I used to amplify
with luminosity,
Unworthy
of the love
I emitted
fiercely,
abundantly,
So how can you question
my passivity,
when all the world ever did
was take and take and take
from me?
~L.Y
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.
