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Max Apr 2020
I am shattered inside,
But I am gleaming.
I collapse at night,
And forget how to feel.

But if you hold me,
I'll be beautifully broken
And my bleeding heart will be yours.

I laugh at the wrong time,
And don't always understand the gossip,
But my soul belongs to far-flung lands,
And my eyes seek the truth.
I am by no means perfect,

But if you hold me,
I'll be beautifully broken.
My trembling hand is yours to hold.

I am broken,
But I am beautiful.
I am beautifully broken
Max Apr 2020
I'm ensnared in Life,
And I can't wait to try my hand
I let my pain drift around me,
As I begin to dream

I entranced by fantasies,
Of far-flung worlds, and secret locations.
I plan out my hopes and thoughts, as I take out my pen.
As ink blossoms on my paper,
I realise I've drawn a map.
Past, future and present,
And the worlds that I know.

I hear a call from the world,
as it expands beneath my feet.
I am a restless traveller,  
And I will learn my world.

Have peace,
As you see my walking by myself,
Talking to myself.
Have peace.
I am a traveller
Max Apr 2020
In the cellar, on a dusty shelf, you'll find my treasures tucked away.
I keep my truths, side by side, in graceful chests with ornate keys hung on ribbons bright.

Joy on the first, carved by a childish hand,
A faded old photo of a beautiful girl,
A tiny candle, a baby curl.
A delicate music box with a sweet refrain,
of a young woman singing in the gentle rain.

Sorrow on the next, smooth and gentle,
Inside, a tarnished key, which fits not into a dream’s lock. A letter, creased and faded with age, never having reached its place. A lost doll, cast away, for with its owner it will no longer play.

Love beside it, with a tender shine,
On the box of which we lifteth the lid.
A sweet perfume drifts lazily, a sentimental touch. Inside lieth nostalgic trinkets, and it is in here that I keep my smiles. A love letter; sent to me, which hereth I will keep eternally.

Tucked away on the end, bashfully hiding,
It is hereth that I keep my gratitude.
Fondly smiled upon, a velvet-lined chest.
Inside a shell, gifted long ago,
And a photo taken with a stranger, now a friend. A jumble of reassuring notes, and a thousand smiles, shared with a thousand strangers.
This is inspired by the incredible Louisa May Allcot
Max Apr 2020
I am me.
I was born to be a thunderstorm,
And my soul’s a starry sea.
I was never born to stay warm,
But I am without an anchor, and I am me.

I am me.
I am shards of iron and glass.
I am the howl of an animal that knows it’s free.
I’m a whirlwind of jagged ice.
I am a tameless tide, and I am me.

I am me.
I am the pirate at the helm.
I am the lost, restless sailboat, that longs for the sea
I am the endless, ever changing realm.
I am the storm at the heart of a sailor, and I am me.
Max Apr 2020
I have perched myself upon a jetty,
In the fading sunset light.
The silhouette of me casts a dramatic figure,
But I am far away.

I appear serene and still,
But I am lost to my thoughts.
My eyes are listless,
And I am lost to my sunset reverie

— The End —