Bled Out Onto a Page

Feel. Release. Heal.

35 notes



Written and submitted by Davlin

One day
I will be gone.

My body
No more than ash.

The only thing
I’ll really leave behind
Are my words.

I guess that’s why
I’ve spent more than a decade
Writing furiously
In notebooks
Word documents
Bar napkins
Cigarette boxes
And on my own skin.

It’s important
To tell as much of your story
As you can
You’ve still
The chance.

Filed under poem poetry spilled ink writing

17 notes

I took off my clothes,
She took off hers too,
With no fanfares
And no hallelujahs.
Throughout the night,
I would grind away the truth;
That there’s nothing sadder
Than sad, sad sex,
And the bad, bad news
Is that I gave in
To the ugly hand
That first led me away from you.
From Frightened Rabbit’s Fun Stuff (via thepathofconvalescence)

Filed under Frightened Rabbit

7 notes

In the back of my mind I’ve been planning the eulogy I’m gonna pen for Wolverine.

It’s one of the most painful pieces I’ll ever write.

4 notes

I don’t like the stranger in the mirror much.

The worry lines carved with razor precision across the brow.

The wild hairs whose growth continues on unchallenged.

A smile struggling weakly against the strain.

The acne which has made a valiant return from senior year.

Those enormous black bags; results from the wrong end of a bout with sleep deprivation.

But whatever I do

I refuse to look in the eyes.

Filed under poem poetry spilled ink body image writing