Stinging Barbs

Dark arrows to my heart
Cradled crimson lines of love
Caught unaware
Eyes wide open
Unable to remove the stinging barbs
Lies made truth
My coveted future distant
Inexplicably unattainable
Reality, the bitter pill
Always sits on my bedside table
Stop crying, you little shit
Post-traumatic overly dramatic
Peering deeper unnecessarily
Blanket of loneliness
Pulled tight about my chin
Connection impossible
Pull back, release
Straight down the middle
Bullseye of actuality
Shredded wrists dripping bitterness
Roll over, eyes closed tightly
Start again

©️tara caribou – 2018

33 thoughts on “Stinging Barbs

  1. I like the subtle touches of anger at being so wounded and being unable to change it (to take out the goddamn arrows) shines through the cracks in the deluge of other, equally negative emotions. I also liked “bullseye of actuality” in there: like a gunshot to the face. Dark, hurtful, yes, but wonderful? Of course.

    Excellent poem.

    Liked by 1 person

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