A Beating Heart

There are times

I feel as if I were your beating heart,

Constant, steady, but worn down.

And lately, it seems

Like you’ve slit your wrists,

Deep, with a blade of little consequence.

Blood, Life, pumps from me,

Traveling to your extremities

And is lost in this rhythmic continuation.

I give and I give,

With my efforts only securing

Our grim fate.

I falter, I fail,

And without knowing why,

We fade out of time,

And into oblivion.

Published by: cynicalwordsmith

I am, by no means, a professional writer. I have no dreams of becoming such. I just enjoy writing in my very sparse free time, both poetry and short stories. If you enjoy any of my works in particular, feel free to tell me. I always enjoy the feedback.

Categories PoetryTags, 1 Comment

One thought on “A Beating Heart”

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