Submissions by Nixprty

There's a feeling that can't be named,
Brought by the scar of old love.


The sensation of picking at a scab just because you almost can't bear the thought of it healing.


It cuts deep into your heart and sears a brand of their fingerprints.


They've permanently scarred you.


And when you think you just might be able to find a new love,
Their hold on you rears its ugly head.

Seeing someone you loved at one time,
Someone you'd given everything to;


Just standing there.

...

I sit on a rock beside the creek with a pencil and paper,
The rumbling of the water so perfectly fills my ears.

I look up to see a bird,
large and black,
Carelessly perched atop a tree.

I wonder for a moment,
Can he see me too?

I wonder if he feels envious of me,
If he burns with jealously at my being on this rock.

I can see him,
I can ponder his thoughts and feelings.

In that way I am special.


He flaps his wings and they shimmer in the sun,
He flies away in a rush of noisy wind.
...

Despite the pain of wandering eyes; My fate is decided.

A feeling harbored in the pages of a journal we both hold.

It should drive me mad with its uncertainty,
Yet I can't find reason for anger, only burning curiosity:

What thoughts have you written?

What moments have you read into, what private wonderings?

Spoken word is obsolete,

I beg of you;

Write them in the margins.

My mind is broken into pieces,
Shards of my sanity that lay scattered across our own private plane of existence.

My thoughts,
sharp edged and jagged,
cut deep into your skin and settle there.

I am selfish and greedy for this,
Scrambling and clawing at the bloody wounds in your chest.

It's a desperate shuffle of unclear intentions.

If love is a bloody red,


Bleed for me.


If even just for a moment, a worn, stained cloth on hand to once again blot the red away.