Strings

The veins of my heart are pulled by strings.

You are the puppeteer and my wires are now in knots.

Take the scissors to my strings, so I may cut away before you cause me heartbreak.

The tearing of my feelings weighs down on my heart.

I don’t want to be controlled by these strings.

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741