To yield I shall not
To cry I shall not
Stinging clasps my heart
as trickling cells ripple
through a crackling strain
of torment.
Philosophical it may be
A crippling intense
A spindling crime
A sharpening strike
A blow so rife
My tears flowing
with strife.
The most delicate
of power
Stabbing, twisting stress,
cuts a blooded flesh
A serious blow
A ripping torture
Screams rack my breath.
Time is of the essence
Tediousness and suffering
Throbbing rattling
Tortured affliction
Emotional discomfort
A disastrous addiction.
As I lay down my head
screaming for death
My wonderous existence
may, not be no less.
Fickle and torn
Hiding and worn
I seize my life
pushing
through the bushes
I strike with a knife.
***
©️ Denise Larkin 2022. All Rights Reserved.
Also published on Medium.com
About the Creator
Denise Larkin
A writer with a BA in Arts & Humanities (specialism Creative Writing), studying for an MA in Creative Writing, writes poetry and fictional short stories. The author of Time to Run, The Island of Love, Darkness, and The Non-Human.
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Keep reading
More stories from Denise Larkin and writers in Poets and other communities.
Talented Black creators spotlight: Catherine Nyomenda (Chap 3).
Catherine reminds me of an enigma wrapped within a riddle. When she writes, she skips between the poetic and the dramatic. Her highlights of the African lifestyles of herself, of authors whom she admires, and the many nuances of love keeps you wondering and pondering the passage of life.
By Novel Allen4 days ago in Chapters
Comments (4)
Awesome!!!
Excellent.
Excellent poem.
Very deep and emotional poem.