Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Swallowed, a poem


I swallow the ground glass
of your words, a suicide
of hidden bleedings.

It is a wound time may
not heal, tattering,
tearing, slowly bleeding,

behind forgotten smiles.
Look for no meaning here;
pain does not redeem.

Stephen Brooke ©2013

Sort of surprised myself by dashing this off. Not a lot of depth, just a shallow puddle of angst.

I'll mention that I'm not linking much to my poetry and postings here from my FaceBook profile anymore, in that it's just so much clutter to most of my FB friends. But I will do so on my official poetry page, , for those who actually want to follow me.

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