I am made of stone,
but someone broke me.
My cracks are almost healed,
but every tiny crevice stings like pouring alcohol over an open wound.
I carve a smile on my granite face to conceal the tear stains and heart aches, laughing out loud and screaming inside all at the same time.
I know I’ll be okay though,
because when you crack open a rock,
there are crystals inside it.
I am broken, and I am beautiful.
Dec 16, 2020
Dec 16, 2020 at 7:53 AM UTC
I haven’t done this in a while,
Writing rhymes in rhythm,
I haven’t had the time to think
Of words, my mind was numb.
I don’t know why I’m doing this,
What have I got to say?
I don’t think I have an answer
But really, I think I may.
I used to write so much back then,
Back when I was in love,
I don’t think I’m all smitten now,
But maybe, sorta, kind of?
Dec 11, 2020
Dec 11, 2020 at 1:07 PM UTC
It's a pleasure,
An escape,
It takes you places.
It's like love,
Like pain,
But on paper.
Only written,
No shape or texture,
But it gives you a thousand emotions.
It's what we do,
When the mouth cannot say,
What the heart feels.
Jun 13, 2017
Jun 13, 2017 at 2:44 PM UTC