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Black veins,
Bring the pain.
I'm tired of this feeling,
But I can't stop the bleeding.
I cannot free myself from these tangles.
For the harder I fight the tighter I'm strangled,
By these ropes that I've made myself.
They are hung from the highest shelf.
About the Creator
Alyssa Nicole
A toxicologist who secretly hopes to be a full-time author. One novel in progress with too many other ideas taking up space in my head until I get around to writing them. Some of those ideas end up here.
Instagram: @alyssa.n.mussowrites
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Comments (3)
Love the rhyme in this and the escalating line lengths! And of course the imagery of tangled veins is very striking!
Yikes, very somber poem - self-made ropes hung high. Nice job.
But I can't stop the bleeding. I cannot free myself from these tangles. For the harder I fight the tighter I'm strangled, By these ropes that I've made myself. Beautiful poem, great work.