Tags
Communication, creative, Depression, Insecurity, poems, poetry, Undone, verse, writing
I’ll carve marks into my skin
And hope that you can see
Trust the cold wind with my name
To show where I have been,
Throw my arms out open wide
Watch red skies turn to black
Cry lost flowers wilt and die
To show you what’s inside,
I’ll leave words upon the shelf
Beneath the dust they’ll die
Hear the voices on the breeze
Whisper someone else,
All the things I left undone
Freeze the hands as they spin
Then slip between the covers
And vanish with the sun.
© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2020
Giving too much of ourselves, without holding anything back, that, is how we end up, getting hurt…
But still better to give, I feel. Thanks for leaving your thoughts – appreciated!
Whooaaa! Completely undone!
That worked then! Thank you, Tara.
Absolutely. I really do like your poetry (and other writing!)
I’m thrilled, rewarded (and a little humbled) to hear so!
Perfect, just perfect.
Now do youself a favor and send it, along with other stuff, to Dodging the rain. Neil is another amazing editor.
Thank you, I may well do that. Glad you liked this.
So beautiful
Thank you.