His chest
Was bare,
She peered deep
Into the gaping hole
So she could examine his heart.
The attractive lady asked him
"What were those seams on your heart?"
The young fellow blushed,
He felt uncomfortable having to tell her the answer -
But lying was not his forte.
So he said,
"My heart has been attacked several times
And as a result
It was on the verge
Of tearing...
You see,
The scars on my heart
Were a gift from
My parents' divorce,
A gift from depression,
From my second breakup,
From my suicidal thoughts
From my dad questioning my intelligence.
Those five scars
Were once
Accomplices
In my attempted murder.
However,
Poetry came along
And sewed my heart...
As tears flowed out of my ink
The threads closed up the wounds
And now all that remain
Are the scars
Immortalised
In my poems.
The seams
Were meticulously rendered
By poetry's helping hands."
YOU ARE READING
Writer's Whispers
PoetryIt's only at night that you hear the faint whispers of the writer's pen trailing paper. [COMPLETED]
