My Inspiration for Broken Poetry

Your shackles still seem to dangle from my bleeding wrists

A scar that no tattoo can cover

A scar that no love can heal

Deception was your language of choice

I have shards of glass shredding the insides of my dreams

She blamed my solitude on the darkness

But what she never realized was the darkness lived inside of me

A pen is a fragile thing in the hand of a lunatic

It has the tendency to remember the things your heart wanted to forget

 Silhouette's of unfamiliar faces begin to paint themselves into your memories

The hour glass sand tends to fall on our time like the rain drops on a tin roof

It controls our feeling in nature to love and betray,

She was the Angel in the Hell I was living

My words have failed me for centuries it seems as if something is missing

The torture of a broken, bleeding heart is no longer a muse

The pain of a love lost can no longer feed my inspiration to fuse together broken poetry

The cold touch of her lips was a toxic poison, I lived on life support of her breath

She was a zombie who fed on my incapable feeling of being loved

I realize now that we were role playing, I was Poe and you were Virginia

Although you didn't die in my arms, a piece of your soul did

Even if we were role playing Romeo and Juliet it still ended in tragedy

Neither one of us perished, but the love dying was worse than if we had died

I still don't understand the chemicals in the word love, and what it stands for

Love poetry is something that has escaped my pen for decades

Centuries elope between verses of I love you, and this life is only made of death

Time stands still in the eyes of the Reaper who claimed my soul all those years ago

She believed that I was made of nothing, that my contents had been ripped apart before her

She had both lies and promises stitched to her lips, though those promises hurt worse than the lies

She promised to be there today, yesterday, and a hundred years from now

And now I can't even tell you what she looked like the day she left me for him

Even as the writer that I am I can't fathom the words to explain the cells that made this woman

A shell of a human being covered in broken pieces of unfinished poetry,

Empty lines begging for someone to put the pieces back together, a fallen vase seeking repair

I feel as if I was living in a prison that didn't allow words to visit

The reflection of paper can appear to the eye transparent as if you can see through the bullshit

She never even gave me the option to search for the light to hide the darkness that was inside me

She never gave me the opportunity to repair the damaged hugs I'd give her

Or the broken "I love you's" 

On some days I still feel as if she is here ripping apart all the minor things I've fixed

Someone once said they wrote their love poems in braille because love is blind

How do you write a love poem for someone that loved killing every piece of your hope

That one day you two would actually live happily ever after

In some fairy tale that you made yourself believe in

Instead you live inside a world where love is a knife digging through your chest

Words sometimes ponder themselves into existence when you feel it beneath the core of its syllable

All along I knew she didn't love me and that she was leading me somewhere deserted

But all the while I was using her as well... I was using her for inspiration for poetry about heartbreak

-StevoThePoet

Reviews

[Robert Trakofler]

Don't worry Steve, you will find another... you just have to stitch all the patches back on and reglue those fallen pieces first... no self respecting muse wants a previously finished deconstruction for a rendering. Just smile and look innocent and untouched

[Katrina Mckeown]

A very powerful in-depth write, beautifully dark and thought provoking . Great work! Loved it !

[Stevo The POE-t]

Thanks for reading an oldie

[Katrina Mckeown]

It was my pleasure, I’ve glimpsed over a few others, I won’t review until I read them through, and I will when I find the time , I do believe Poe would be enthralled to think he inspired your writings . I will pop by again.

[Stevo The POE-t]

Thanks again... I actually have a Portrait of Poe tattooed on my right arm

[Katrina Mckeown]

That’s some homage to Sir Alan Poe! :)

[Stevo The POE-t]

I also have his real signature tattooed on me under a quill

[Katrina Mckeown]

That’s very interesting, I’m sure Sir Edward Alan Poe would be honoured! :)

[Stevo The POE-t]

I hope he would

[Katrina Mckeown]

A legacy indeed, you might be a legacy yourself one day as you definitely adorn the poetry form.

[Stevo The POE-t]

Thanks... I actually quit writing for awhile... My new poem Death is the first poem I've written in like 2 years

[Katrina Mckeown]

I’ve been on and off over the years myself, few operations over the years and needed my sleep to recover so chased my poetry away and it went in the huff for a while lol Glad you have returned and I will find time to read death, I have visitors today so a day when I can truly enjoy reading I will !

[Stevo The POE-t]

No rush... Glad you started writing again

[Katrina Mckeown]

Thank you, much appreciated as I’m also glad you have also! :)

[Katrina Mckeown]

Sir Edgar Alan Poe would be delighted we’ve been discussing him :)

[cycy]

Oh stevo, you have me in quite a confused state, i have about 6 phrases there and i swear at each one i was like this is definitely my favourite line..haha..brilliant, absolutely brilliant. well written, so intense and thought provoking. love love loved it!!!!

[Ink Seductress]

WOW! This was beautifully penned. It was romantically dark. The tone to this poem was otherworldly in itself. I loved it! I plan on reading more of your work.

[Barbara Walker]

Some people write in a monotone-your words are so much the opposite of that. Great piece of work, Stevo. No holes barred!

[Cristina E. MCcombs]

This was amazing....
I wish had more to say but how can you critique perfection... ?
Just amazing and beautifully written 🌼

[Leslie Philibert]

Fine job, I like the way you have your own style, your own voice...

[Jennie Baron]

Good to see a new poem from you, Stevo, especially one as eloquent and moving as this. It is absolutely inspired.

[wordman]

the poet and a pen,it will travel roads even angels fear to tread
loved the write my friend,good to see you back.

[Coyote Poetry]

Good to see your name on the board my old friend.
"Time stands still in the eyes of the Reaper who claimed my soul all those years ago
She believed that I was made of nothing, that my contents had been ripped apart before her
She had both lies and promises stitched to her lips, though those promises hurt worse than the lies"
The above lines cut deep into the heart. Hard to understand after a love that was powerful become cold. Thank you Stevo for sharing your powerful poetry and thoughts.
Coyote

[Stevo The POE-t]

Yeah this is the first real thing man I've written in months... I've been in Writers block and couldn't escape it.. I'm still not sure how regularly I'll post on here... I just wanted to get something new on here and let my friends on here know I'm still here...

[Coyote Poetry]

I hope you are okay and I always enjoy your work.

[Stevo The POE-t]

Yeah I've just been working a lot here lately... Thanks man it means a lot