Blood ripples;
and pain pumps.
Your veins all around,
and your heart thumps.
You don't feel,
you cut yourself off.
From emotion, from pain
but mostly from me.
You don't know how it feels,
to cry yourself to sleep with broken dreams.
You don't know how it feels
to hear someone's heart beat.
You don't know how it feels
to bleed.
You don't
notice me.
I don't know where to start.
Have you ever been broken apart?
You tore out my soul
and stole my heart.
You left me all alone,
in the rain.
Bleeding and cold.
You don't know how it feels
to cry yourself to sleep with broken dreams.
You don't know how it feels to feel someone's heart beat.
You don't know how it feels,
to be me.
It just shows... You don't know everything.
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139,414 Literary Works • 672,558 Reviews
Sorry for this. I hate giving short or bad critiques, but I have to agree. Your work in general is great, but this seems more depressive than effective. It lacks rhythm and structure, and half of your sentences are cut half way through by full-stops. If you where trying a new technique or style... It doesn't work.
On the good side, that last line is a brilliant way to round off the whole thing. Maybe you could re-write this with a little more passion rather than sadness. Chew over your ideas a bit more before putting them on paper (or screen).
You couldn't get more emo than that... But as much of as an emo that I am I hate the message that your poem brings. I hate the people who associate emo with suicide because the people who commit suicide are not emo-they're stupid. Anyway I though know how it feel to cry myself to sleep with broken dreams, I have been broken apart and I do know how it feels to feel someone's heartbeat and I have felt that thrice...