Broken Little Heart

A broken little heart still beats

in folded corners of a chest

When all the while the sorrow eats

away at it, as it knows best

A tired tongue is laying still

in dried out caves deprived of sound

Since Mars has conquered the mind's will

Venus is forced to leave her mound

The blood is languishing, devout,

in rivers made of mud and fat

The eyes fixed on the inside out

not knowing what they're looking at

The gravel crunched beneath the feet

a ritual seems to reach the end

The fingers, desperate to meet

the forehead and the shoulder's friend

And yet the broken heart still beats

because it knows not how to stop

It fills the body's empty streets

with rushing red, drop by drop.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Your words have the feel of song.
"And yet the broken heart still beats
because it knows not how to stop
It fills the body's empty streets
with rushing red, drop by drop."
I loved the above lines. Perfect use of words and thoughts. Thank you Arianna for sharing the amazing poetry.
Coyote

[Curtis.Lenker]

Wow. Such an amazingly powerful poem. I loved it. Keep up the great work.

[Devansh Shekhar Shukla]

I really enjoyed this poem. Great read!