My soul is leaking
A pomegranate blood
Your fantasy of a wine waterfall
Overflowing on my loner soul
We are all born with colors
A bright red dripping from my ribs
A sign of weakness, or a sign of defeat
It doesn't matter, because I know I'm conflicted
Nothing makes sense in my mind
Except for Lucifer silent whispers
Send me away, or blaze me astray
I can't decide if this life is made for me
I could be sinning, just to feel nothing
Regretless , just a sprinkle of thrill on my wounds
Am I made of paper? I am too easy to tear apart
Hazy weather always hitting my mind
I take in pleasure the sipping of my pomegranate blood
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This is the finale poem of my book B A D, I first published this in summer 2017, precisely the beginning of August 2017. When I first started writing, although it wasn't my first time writing, I didn't really care about views/ votes, I just wanted a place to call my own, a place I can write whatever comes to my mind without being called "insane". I am glad that after 2 years, I have finally completed it. I am thankful for every single vote and view, and for those who keep on flattering my writing, I know I'm not the best, because I still consider myself as just self explanatory rather than a poet. Everything I've written in this book I had experienced, these are just a collection of words I can never say out loud. I cope like this, a lifestyle I had adapted. This isn't the end though, I'll keep on writing (but on a new book) cause I still have a room to improve, and heavy feelings waiting to be written.
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YOU ARE READING
B A D
PoetryMy mind is dark, intensive and sexual. P.s: This is a mature content, and may get sexual at times. Please read at your own risk. Higest rank #10 as of 13/3, 18/3, 24/3 #9 as of 30/3 #6 as of 3/8 #3 as of 4/9 And #1 in sad poems tag 4/9
