Picture My Life

For Intellect. For Emotion. For Substance.

179 notes

His lips were stained with the sour taste of bitter
Every so often tainted memories would come spilling out
Like toxins
A regurgitating form of venting
His words poured out his heart onto a tarnished platter
Overcome with confined resentment
Disdain overshadowing any sense of mind
He had been hurt
And that’s the only way he could describe it
With a festering anger
Ready to pounce on the next soul bold enough to want to love him
So he could only love back half-heartedly
With the half of his heart too scared to feel that pain
One foot lingering just outside the doorstep
Waiting on the right thing to go wrong

Filed under creative writing poem poetry poet spoken word spilled ink dear diary thoughts journal love hate hurt heart heartache heart break broken pain quote write memory

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    His lips were stained with the sour taste of bitter Every so often tainted memories would come spilling out Like toxins...
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