Broken-down

I ripped my heart from the inside out

I cut the strings where feelings sprout

I cried and tried to make it bleed

the pain I caused would not recede

I crashed and fell onto the floor

I begged and tried to ask for more

I lay there and wished to be held

but never once did I not yell

a broken me sits and writes

nothing inside feels that bright

cast and bound to mend myself

burned and lost in lust and filth

I fade away with nothing left

just tears and fears of a broken-down gift

...

Something I have found as of late that is very helpful is sketching. I do not profess to be an excellent artist when it comes to drawing, but I have found it very relaxing, much the same as putting words to paper. They can be very raw, or they can be a projection of emotions that come and go from past experiences. 

I included one of my sketches as the image for this poem. It symbolizes growth in either direction as I explore my poetry, art, and photography in this season of my life.

Authors Note: Thanks for reading, commenting, and sharing. My writing is a part of my healing process. I am a broken spirit, a fallen sinner, but I am a forgiven child of God. That is why I share my vulnerable heart openly. Thank you for your support.