hurt poems

Evidence – A Poem by Krushna Chandra Mishra

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Wherefrom, you tell me,
Shall I collect evidence
On my complete ruin in your hands
Once you in all cunning
Have erased everything
From coming to be used against you
To put me back in my place
From where in utter grief and loss
I stand displaced and perplexed?

Now thus once again
On your calculated return to me
I have nothing more to ask
Except to once in concrete terms
Explain to me how and in what conditions
You sought to withdraw from my life
To keep your shadow constantly troubling me
To my utter despair and ruin
From the dark abyss of which perhaps
Never in this life
I think I shall recover for sure.

Evidence it is
I am beside you and here
Not demanding anything except
Finding you broken and lost and groping
For something you know
You will never be able to lay
Your crazy hands upon.

Distances – A Poem by Marie MacSweeney

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I willed your wound
to heal itself
in passing days,
petitioning
each silent exhalation
to rid you a little
of your hot grief,
to be swiftly slain
in cooling air

but you seemed
to inhale it again
in scalding gasps,
hour after solitary hour,
until it burned in you,
a bright phosphorous
rooting into flesh

and there was no way
I could push aside
the air and wind
and still
your gathering hurt.

He Looks So Unhappy | Vivian Helmstead

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I see him on TV,
In his suit,
He looks so unhappy,
Furrowed brow,
Eyes squinting,
Tight mouth,
A guy whose parents
Made him feel worthless,
Now in a position where
He can hurt all his
Perceived enemies,
Play out all his fantasies
Of showing them
Who’s right,
A sad man doing sad things
For sad reasons.

I Am Who I Am | Sandra Nguyen

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I am the scars that you see,
of broken promises and broken heart.
I am the tears that flow,
from wells of hurt and pain.
I am the treasure,
of falling stars and lost dreams.
I am who I am,
because you loved me.

I am the wings of eagles,
soaring in the sky.
I am the butterfly,
the change and transformation.
I am the sun, the stars and moon,
shining and twinkling with all my might.
I am who I am,
because I loved you.

More at https://www.facebook.com/sansmagic/.

Splinter | Angelica Fuse

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There is
a shard
of hurt
refusing to go
away
when I move
left
it twists
me tight
there is
a splinter
in my reason
I can hardly
ignore
summoning
my every
attention.

Consumed | Guy Farmer

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So consumed are they
By their toxic vitriol
That they don’t
Understand their’s
Is not the only,
And surely not the
Healthiest, perspective.

On Repeat | Justateddyberry

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Hot tears flowing down the stream
Only opening my eyes to see
I’m just lying on my bed
And no one’s hurting me anymore
It was all just a dream
But it was real
All the humans in there
Everything happening was just a compilation of hurt
On repeat
Set in a different setting
The only difference was this time
I actually cried

More at https://sfondato.blogspot.com.

True Colors | Krista S. Clark

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Challenge a seemingly never-ending, unfathomable journey. Gaze
extremely vividly,
beyond rims of a suspicious smile.
Sashay ever so cautiously, questioning every curve.
Never lift concentration albeit a mere blink of a split second.
Peer amidst bright boisterous poppies and beaming rays of sunshine.
Ignore luscious scents of fragrant, lavender lilacs.
Sprint towards glistening, gleaming traces of light.
Thrust abruptly with superhuman force against nature.
Dive into the desolate solitude of darkness.
Burst the unrepairable, never before seen, crimson seal.
Scale gigantic walls constructed of vicious, poisonous reptiles,
seeking their next victims.
Rise above rapid flames like a magnificent phoenix experiencing its first flight.
Extinguish unbearably fierce, billowing heat.
Navigate hesitantly on narrow, spiky, misleading paths.
Trample through deep, dark, bone chilling dungeons.
Breathe profusely into the swollen lips of a limp, lifeless body.
Reveal the true colors of a wretched, almost unreachable, dying,
abandoned being.

Pieces | Renee' Drummond-Brown

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Bit by bit
they broke me.
Shards can’t be fixed.
Shattered pieces
fragments within
parts of illusions
faced down
smiles far less than
artificial frowns.
They broke me
mid-flight.
Smithereens
fell down
restoration
can’t be found.
They broke me
can’t be fixed
itty bitty
pieces.
—–
Dedicated to 7.
—–
Renee’ Drummond-Brown, is an accomplished poetess/writer. She is a graduate of Geneva College (CUBM) with experience in creative writing. She is working on her fourth book and has numerous works published globally. Her love for creative writing is undoubtedly displayed through her very unique style of poetry. Renee’ is inspired by Dr. Maya Angelou, because of her, Renee’ pledges “Still I write, I write, and I’ll write!”

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