My Paper Cut
When I am hurt
Words flow from my mind
Like blood flows from a cut
My mind is raw like my skin
My mind hurts like a wound
Pain radiates to my heart
My hand move quick
Ink stains paper
A pool of words collect
Like a pool of blood
And finally the cut dries up
Just like my mind
No more words or blood will fall
Exhausted, I gaze at my masterpiece
And I wonder
How can so much pain
Create something so tangible
So real
👁 2💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.
988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
Comments are closed for this poem.