Open Poetry #46 |
Bloodshot |
wicked Junior Member
since 2010-01-29
Posts 22Florida, USA |
Wrapped in infinite oblivion her heart is broken glass and the face in the mirror is not hers and blood that flows from the corpse of a memory but the dead don't bleed nor will the rose that never wilts so she slits her wrist and bleeds across the sky but does not die and slips into eternity with two scarred wrists and the angels open their eyes and do not like what they see swallowed by insanity and hearts burning alive lie shattered in the dark in the dust and saints succumb to lust and she writes the word help in her breath on the window but no one sees it as they all pass her by in her cage of glass and vanity screaming silently to the angel called tragedy who holds her hand as he slowly slips away and waves goodbye across the bloodred sky from the blood of the sun and the ocean black from tears wept by those drowning in the depths of infinity of forever slowly slipping through her fingers moment by moment and the glass is shattered and the diamond on her finger is fake like the heart of the giver and the words of the preist and the promise of the stars as they weep and beauty always fades but so sad a thing when the beautiful go blind and the promises die young swallowed by tyrrany and infinity of the forever that never comes to those who wait alone bearing wilting roses that never die and hearts made of glass and vanity that break but never feel that bleed but don't run dry and tears that fall but never fade from bloodshot eyes. Copyright LD 2010 I am that I am, And that makes it me. I float like a rock But I sting like a bee. |
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© Copyright 2010 Lexie DeLaRue - All Rights Reserved | |||
noman Junior Member
since 2009-12-26
Posts 18 |
For sure, hearts are made of glass. A good read. |
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GBride Senior Member
since 2009-07-02
Posts 538 |
Outstanding! There are non better than this one! Bravo, this is stunning poem! |
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