For all the artists isn't this why you create?
First we read to temporarily forget.
Slowly it turns into drugs and we read more.
We fantasize, as if reliefing.
Just like sucidals bleed for relief.
Then everytime we are not,
we wait for the time to run back
to where we belong.
Just like witches felt peace in woods.
Sudden transition from reading to writing.
Hoping to save a life or two.
Write as if we were to ink the papers with blood,
blood from the endless thought.
Everything that felt like killing us?
In awe and tears we feel rescued.
Like bad blood being poured out!
The only way we feel we heal.
The world sees it as passion
but actually it is what keeps us alive!
Maybe a read can save two lives?!
Your's and mine.
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Author:
Cynthia Seven (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 8th, 2026 01:11
- Comment from author about the poem: I hope we all heal from the things that left a deep cut, or guilt for something we never caused.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 18
- Users favorite of this poem: soheil khodaparasti
Offline)
Comments3
good write, especially last two lines that closes the poem
Thank you, Norman:)
you are most welcome
Sqmprikta in reading this I believe writing can heal it heals the writer and at times the reader. Writing can be a therapy venting things held in. Well said.
Thank you, my friends.
You are always most welcome Samprikta
Cathartic and life saving
A work of art indeed
I look forward to reading more from you
Ohh my, thank you so much 🙂
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