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Poem Details
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| Title: | What is. |
| Date Submitted: | 6/5/2007 |
| Email: | crimson_surrender@hotmail.com |
| Poem: |
My heart has a dark core, Gnarled and brown, sucked of health and life And spat out at me. A seed planted before birth. Waiting. They saw promise, that should have been a foreboding fate. It was tendrils. Pushing, weaving, strangling. Forever entrenched Though how I’ve tried to free myself from them. Forever mine Though how I’ve tried to free myself from life. And this talking, These words, My poisoned words at that, With an infecting air that seeps out And hurts With every breath I wish I did not have to take. Sounds pushed together As though they mean something in their new combination. But they are just words And only words. And they cannot change what is inside, What simply is The anchor of blackness A fate I carry on. But why? For inside it is only blackness. And always will be blackness… And they are still only words.... |