Bled.
Hm...not exactly sure. Poetry stuff. When you hear.
Hear pain from miles away.
Knowing I cannot say, what need be said.
It’s already been said
It’s already been said.
Show the bled
Aren’t always already dead.
Tasting tears not cried aloud.
I don’t bow
I don’t give up.
Won’t run away
I will not until I hear
My own mouth say
don’t stay.
Plead, it’s all gray
Hearing fears that aren’t here.
What I could share
the reaction still there.
Sick to the bones.
To hear that fear.
Fear of the hopeless
Why can I not heal it?
Steal it.
I cannot make it okay
If I’m not allowed to be it.
don’t know how to pray?
But I’ll still hear it anyway.
Nothings worth holding onto
Unless it makes one silent inside.
Unless it quietens
Kills the turmoil inside.
Turn the ocean off its side.
All that is implied.
When there is somewhere.
Somewhere to hide?
Hide.
Take it in hand.
refuse to rue the day.
I will not give into demand.
From bad blood.
Fade away never
Until
“You just should”.
Would if I could.
Could if I would.
But I refuse.
Or maybe I can handle all that abused.
I refuse.
Not from where I’ve stood.
Not yet
Not from where I stand.
I must drown further.
I must do more than bend.
Under heat
Heat I still understand.
The cold simply hardens it.
But I’ve got more to go yet.
It’s as I’ve said.
I’ve still alot, I haven’t bled.
I still am not dead.
And I still haven’t fled.
Have I?
Tell myself, have I yet?
Bleed the bled.
Because I do not fear dread.
Or maybe I just make my bed.
In everything I’ve ever bled.
I dread no dread.
It’s as I’ve said.
As I’ve said.
I use what I’ve got to give.
—C R.Stanger
Hey it's shorter...I guess it seems depressing but is anything but actually...when you keep it up no matter what.
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