The Highs, The Lows, And Rockbottom

 I wear my sickly heart on my feeble wrists;

 tattered and bloody, I bless this curse with a blades kiss.

It feels as good as a tigers sharp bite,

And stains the blade like a high red kite

Might stain the blue sky.

But that poor kite is afraid of hights!

And the string is rapidly fraying!

As the kite finds itself weighing

Out the possibilities of surviving!

I guess thats the highs and lows of flying...

And that same blade will

Turn into a bunch of pills.

That slide down so slowly

And yet, sets a high fire within me.

As my pupils grow

I stop my blood streams flow.

 By entering into my flesh a poisonous, silver rose

Thorn. That will eject its poison, and bloom in me before Spring,

And its beauty will keep me from seeing

The addiction that keeps me from living

And acting normally.

And all places seem the same and different

From the places that I've been before, and yet, 

They appear differently 

From that cozy place that I used to be.

But now, I am cold in the limbo of uncertainty.  

As the sun rests on the horizon,

And I'm as high as an American

Flag.  My blood falls into the cadence

Of the marching in my heart, that tramples my existence;

And soothes me into silence.

Author's Note

I tried my hand at a different way of writing.
But just be honest..... So, what do you think?

Reviews

[TWISTED NIGHTMARE]

i love this piece...the passion and emotion in this is astonishing...the wording brought me to tears...just beautiful