Torn Heart

You left your fingerprints
On my heart
In a bloody gash
The incision
That made the first impression

I weave it into words
And call it my art
Born from a scar
Imperfectly stitched
Across a torn heart.

Read This Next: This Is My Hell

Total
0
Shares
Related Posts
Image of a growing vortex in a pool of water created by a droplet. This growing vortex conveys the theme of this poem title Empty Fulfillment
Read More

Empty Fulfillment

A quickly expanding void torments my existence, like a dark shadow haunting my thoughts. Fighting for possession of my will, it eats at me, leaving me lost yet feeling incredibly alive and freed.