Tag Archives: Heart

Emotions

A bleeding heart
A bleeding mind
Worn boldly on my sleeve
Yet…
The mask still hides all
Nobody cares to see underneath
Nobody seems to hear my pleas
Crying in silence
Tears falling in darkness
Weeping brings anger to others
Though I’m not sure why
So the mask stays
Tears leaving invisible scars
Untraceable self-harm
The world turns a blind eye
Fear takes control
Turns sorrow into paranoia
Am I cursed
Am I the problem
How do I remove the problem
Would others even notice
Should I remove the problem
They still can’t see beyond the mask
While my heart hemorrhages
Both sleeves permanently stained
Blatant, obvious
Wordless suffering
Endless torment
Can nobody see past the facade
My lies of happiness
My dishonest joy
Thousands of fraudulent smiles
To keep others pleasant
So they could never know my true pain
Though I desire for them to dig deeper
A constant conundrum
Of what I think I want
And what I’m not sure of
An exhausting battle
All behind the lighthearted mask
Except my heart
My bleeding heart
Sliced with depression and uncertainty
Blackened by hatred of self
Thickened with envy and lust
For the life I see in others
The grass is greener on the other side
While I forever drown in woe
Brought on by my own misery
I am aware
I am so painfully aware
Of what I do to myself
And yet…
I cannot break the cycle
I’m a poison, a lethal toxin
Killing those around me
Behind this mask filled with laughter
How can they realize it’s me
Nobody suspects what they deem as
The good person
But I will always know
Of who I truly am inside
A mendacious thief of life
A dedicated torturer of self
And a perfect butcher of emotions

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Sword (Flash Fiction)

The young maiden gasped, amber eyes wide. Her lips trembled as she looked down at the sword sticking through her chest. Then she lifted her gaze to her attacker. It was none other than her lifelong friend. They had grown together, cried together, laughed together. Fell in love together. The person she trusted most. While it was true that Anne was considered nothing more than a handmaiden to the rest of the castle, Princess Marie called her sister.

The heir to the throne blinked as she felt her blood running down the front of her gown. “Why?”

Anne gritted her teeth, holding the sword in place. “You know why!”

Tears ran down Marie’s cheeks. “I-I don’t.” She gasped for air at this point.

Despite herself, tears welled up in the handmaiden’s eyes. Seeing her friend in such a pained state. But she persisted. “Yes, you do. You sent John to his death. We were going to be married.”

The princess’s eyes fluttered, and she struggled to remain balanced. “I always supported you and John. I don’t, I don’t have that kind of…authority.”

Anne’s expression twitched. It was true that the princess did not have the ability to carry out executions. “But…but–” She cut herself off, looking down at the cold stone floor. “They talked. They all said you wanted him dead. That you begged your father…”

Marie swallowed, though trickles of blood came out the corners of her mouth. “No, Anne.” She choked. “You, you have been blinded.” A short breath. “Fooled.”

The handmaiden’s mouth opened and closed. Yet, no words came. Her dark eyes searched her sister. “Marie…”

The royal heir struggled. “I thought…I thought you trusted me. I trusted you.” A final breath escaped her, and the last thing she saw was her lifelong friend weeping. Her eyes finally fluttered close. She didn’t know what had caused this confusion in Anne, but she knew one thing before her death. It was not the sword that cut her heart.

 


Sword


Lines from a Bleeding Heart

Never picturing solitude
Not with promises
People swore
Now those closest
Are furthest away
Those depended on
Are no longer there
Those who listened
No longer hear
I never understand
Why false promises are made
Does no one truly care
Is that why they’re gone
Are those really masks they wear
A heart is given
Yet never returned
They still flock to me
Pouring out their souls
Help them set problems free
Living can be hard
Everyone knows
Yet when it comes to individual strife
The empathetic are tossed away
Pitched like the trash of life
Is it asking too much
For someone to be supportive
But it returns to care
And honesty behind it
Would anyone dare
To reach out to one in need
Who gave so much love
When others called for it
So it could be done for them
Though they never admit
How they failed
Their human support
Now the empathetic is gone
They have indefinitely lost
The other ultimately won


Ocean

The ocean crashed ashore; he heard it. Wave after thunderous wave, it never ceased. And it was all behind him. The sun beat down on his back. It seemed to burn him. He didn’t feel comforted by the rays like normal. His body felt heavier with the heat, and the soft sand accepted his weight.

He twitched his fingers. Making sure he still had motor functions. Clenched fistfuls of sand. He opened his eyes. Bright haze flooded his sight. The storm had passed. He lifted his head, but his strength was gone. It fell back down.

The water continued splashing and roaring. It never reached him. The wind whipped his knotted hair about his head. His heart rate picked up as his skin tightened. He realized he was drying. It grew harder for him to breathe. Lungs feeling constricted. His jaw slid open for more air. He received a mouthful of sand. His blurry vision momentarily blacked out.

A cry reached him. Shouting. Followed by responses of another voice. He tried moving, tried getting away. But it was useless. His muscles strained and trembled, but they didn’t move. He couldn’t make out what the two voices said, even as they approached. All his senses were fading quickly.

The pair was upon him now. There wasn’t anything he could do. Not even thrash. He would be subjected to them. Something was thrown upon him. It was wet. The excess water flowed along his form. He was picked up. They were carrying him.

Yet, the only thing that mattered was the liquid on his drying flesh and scales. It relieved him. He could breathe normally. His tense muscles finally relaxed. His heart beat eased. And he allowed the small amount of water succumb him into unconsciousness.


A Rainy Day

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Rain pattered on the metal roof. Neon lit up the front of the agency through the dim haze. The front window fogged in the corners. Inside, the detective agency wasn’t much brighter. A desk lamp and a handul of lanterns provided soft, golden light. The radio faintly crooned a timeless classic.

The detective looked up from his newspaper. Smiled.

The assistant sat in a faded red armchair, holding a mug, legs drawn to her chin. A pink glow cast on her from the neon sign. She stared longingly at the rain.

He rose and went to her. Placed a hand on her shoulder.

She smiled, looking back at him.

“I think we can close down for the day.”

“Are you sure? People still may need our help.”

“We live right up the street. If someone has an emergency, they’ll come to us. They know where we live.” He held out a hand. “No one is going to be out in this weather.”

“True.”

He helped her up when she put her hand in his. Kissed her forehead. “Besides, you look tired.”

“I’m not tired.” But she yawned and stretched anyway.

“I don’t need to be a detective to know that you are.” He straightened his desk while she blew out the lanterns. Retreiving his trench coat from the back of his swivel chair, he held it above her head. The neon flickered off, and he locked the door.

Together, they made their way through the rain. The detective shielding as much of his wife as possible. She allowed it. This time. During the next downpour, she would freely dance her way around. But he was right. She was tired.

He knew something was definitely wrong when she didn’t make it a point to splash in every puddle she came across. The rain brought her so much joy. Yet, he knew it was because of her abilities. The first time she unleashed, she was in a coma for two weeks. The past four days had seen a decline in her zeal for life. He tried his best to remain positive. But he also knew of her mother. She had similar abilities that led her to sickness and premature death. He was afraid the same would happen to his wife. For now, all he could do was pray. Pray that she wouldn’t be taken away from him too soon. There couldn’t be a Double Heart Agency if one of them was missing.


Words of Warning

Be careful who you scorn
The most beautiful roses
Have the deadliest thorns
Be careful who you betray
Most will leave you
Maybe a few will stay
Be careful who you love
Wings of hope will only
Take you so far above
Be careful who you part
The hardest organ to mend
Is a badly broken heart
Be careful who you trust
Seemingly nice people
Can turn into a bust
Be careful who you fear
Those who make you scared
Will cause more than tears
Be careful who you worry
You may never know
How much you affect a story
Be careful who you share
One wild bird may return
While others wouldn’t dare
Be careful who you kill
Even an alive presence
Possesses a haunting will
Be careful who you scorn
The most beautiful roses
Have the deadliest thorns


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