Written expression is emotion at its peak; delve into it.
Bite my flesh with razor steel, I'll fight it only if I must. And if its stench is of mold and blood, I'll assist in scraping away the rust.
By Rachel Steinmetzabout a year ago in Poets
Bear your many tears To the conscience of your soul; She forms the water.
Twist me inside out My small vision will expand; Bless your evil hands
Do not wait for life To slowly die out; Live it While it’s still present
Don't enter my dark world, you won't find the answers you seek. Don't pry through my locks and chains, You'll overwhelm yourself with only a peek.
Courage is a thing of tomorrow, Harvested by despair. With palms outstretched and inviting, But concealed by the tear of fear.
Tonight I cry for something higher, Where not even I can reach. My mind knows not how to think, My heart knows not how to beseech.
Savor the brief wisps Of pleasure; there may yet be A sour aftertaste.
Dearest heart, I treasure your shattered fragments and jagged story. For they are my puzzle pieces with which I can form my very own masterpiece.
The pure hollow smiles Of the joy of the mind-less Make me bless my pain.
Control seeked by humanity, But not over one's soul. For logic's sake we think to rule when basked in freedom in full. *
I fought desire in the field formed of horizons. Where there is no past to base from. Where only strength can win a war, And past battles have gone numb.
