Red hearts we are born with,
Until life stains our skin.
Dunked deep into madness,
And the colours seep in.
Some come out glittering,
Rose-tinted, pure gold.
Other’s return bluer,
Ocean deep, slightly cold.
But those aren’t the colours,
Tattooed on my soul.
I’m not drawn to these wavelengths,
Like I am to charcoal.
There are those in the shadows,
Dark hearts, out of sight.
Untouched by the spectrum,
Dispersed by the light.
Yet into the blackness,
I would happily fall.
Black hearts, it would seem,
Aren’t so bad after all.
About the Creator
em
I’m a writer, a storyteller, a lunatic. I imagine in a parallel universe I might be a caricaturist or a botanist or somewhere asleep on the moon — but here, I am a writer, turning moments into multiverses and making homes out of them.
Reader insights
Nice work
Very well written. Keep up the good work!
Top insights
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Eye opening
Niche topic & fresh perspectives
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Masterful proofreading
Zero grammar & spelling mistakes
Comments (1)
Cool piece! I like how it ryhmes. The use of color throughout the poem is super interesting.