Barbed Wire
Everytime I move they dig deeper into my bleeding heart.
Ripping, tearing, gashes...
New scars become old scars, until you can't tell them apart.
And I'm left with shrapnel, cold, alone, and dark.
I'd do anything to make the bleeding stop.
But you can't put a tourniquet around your heart.
The only way to heal is another round of darts.
So naive, you think you'll win being honest from the start.
None of us are that smart.
It's all barbed wire around your heart.
Copyright © Christina Sample | Year Posted 2017
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment