deepundergroundpoetry.com
Wreckage
The wreckage in my chest is no longer a heart
Its frame is now tattered and ripped apart
The scent of blood mixed
The sounds trapped with
The glimpse of hell it takes
As we hit the brakes
Mangled rubble
Tangled trouble
Staggering free
With memories
Thoughts rush in clear
As hate crashes near
Love becomes lost
In the collision of us.
Its frame is now tattered and ripped apart
The scent of blood mixed
The sounds trapped with
The glimpse of hell it takes
As we hit the brakes
Mangled rubble
Tangled trouble
Staggering free
With memories
Thoughts rush in clear
As hate crashes near
Love becomes lost
In the collision of us.
Published 11th Jul 2022
Author's Note
I wrote this several years ago. Please, don't repost any part of this.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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12th Jul 2022 6:02pm
I love your use of language here, especially the part starting with 'Mangled...". Clever and evocative.
12th Jul 2022 6:05pm
Words and their meanings can be used in different manners for an entirely different outcome.
Thank you and have a great day.
Thank you and have a great day.
