The red line slowly rises,
Puffy and bold against my pale arm.
Why must I make so many promises
If I'm the only one that I harm.
It's my only escape from everything,
My salve for life's harsh burns.
It's for when challenges are flaring
and it seems as if insanity governs.
It's for when friends just don't understand
And are suddenly horrible at advising.
When there is no helping hand,
The pain looks its most enticing.
It's for when the secrets get heavy
And I can't risk letting myself shout.
When I need some relief badly,
The pain is how I balance it out.
It's for when I can't take any more stress
And no one is there to calm me down.
When my plate is a too-full mess,
The pain helps me not to drown.
The heated metal expands on my skin,
Searing through every friend's promising sneer,
Breaking through my distress boiling within.
Burning has become my aloe vera.
Mel. D.'s Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Aloe Vera by Mel. D. )
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe
Richard Le Gallienne
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(9 November 1928 – 4 October 1974)
(1886 - 1967)
- An Ode To Spring, Richard Le Gallienne
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- Good Morrow, John Donne
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- All Through The Barren Winter, ANDREW BLAKEMORE
- After a Death , Tomas Tranströmer
- If, Rudyard Kipling