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70 · Jun 2020
delicate
Michael Stefan Jun 2020
she was made
of tender things;
treads of gold,
and silvered strings,
with little bones
and broken wings,
buttons, pins,
and rusty springs
~
her mind was filled
with little dreams;
to be a queen,
a crown to gleam,
a rainbow bridge
out into space,
a quiet room
to hide her face
~
too delicate
for this world;
a tiny bed,
with a tiny girl,
who's window felt
like iron bars,
so she left her body
and went to the stars
~
no longer small,
no longer frail,
no longer sadness,
and wicked tales,
out in the stars
she burns so bright,
a golden glimmer
lights up the night
I am tearing up writing this.  This is a dedication to a friend who struggled to the very end.  I like to believe she won even though she isn't with us anymore.
69 · Feb 2020
Concrete and Crimson
Michael Stefan Feb 2020
A simple lonely street corner
Indistinguishable from any other intersection
Her face poked in the window of a loft
I imagine that her eyes were green,
I could be wrong

My attention was interrupted by her stare
So inquisitive and curious, maybe 6 years old
I didn't see him coming
His hard brown eyes glaring over a crooked nose
And cracked teeth

I felt the wave of anger and desperation
As he slid the knife into my guts
Cold waves flew over my body
Slow-stop-motion as I fell to the ground
like a poorly drawn cartoon

His grip was rough as he took my wallet
My fingers drenched in crimson
The concrete grew slick beneath me
I didn't try to grasp his arm or stop his hand
Or even acknowledge him above my pain

Each beat of my heart spilled life's precious blood
As I became the paint to a concrete canvas
Smeared sloppily without painterly strokes
A professional background of uneven greys
With a child-like smear of crimson

I reached out frantically as the temperature dropped
It was so impossibly cold in this temperate spring
Her face still pressed against the old bay window
Her expression never changed as I reached for her
Her innocence was lost
In a human painting of concrete and crimson
69 · Feb 2020
Empty Valley
Michael Stefan Feb 2020
An empty valley, save for a few boulders and a lonely tree
Afghan mountains on each side, snowcapped in late winter
The patrol stands alone, overwatch promised
A familiar promise, sometimes kept
The sound of fire, a PKM I think
“Get Down,” shouts A.J., on his stomach behind a boulder
No.  No.  I wouldn’t fall to my knees today
I would see my enemy on open ground
Frustrated from days of unseen attackers
Hidden behind rockets, and distance, and civil population
Invisible threats around each corner, on each hill
Invisible and everywhere
I stand alone in this empty valley, determined to see my enemy
He’s far away, upon a hilltop
I see him crouched behind his gun, an RPK perhaps
Even at this distance, I imagine his eyes
He stares at me with rage worn on his face like an old shemagh
But I imagine I see more behind his eyes
A fear I think, a frustration, a nervousness
Feelings born from years of cultivated hate
Years and years of lack of civility, lack of security
I imagine I see his eyes and I know he can see mine
Two lives intertwined
Brothers who bear arms to defend their beliefs
And enemies forged of inmost hatred
I imagine I see him hesitate, his finger rested on well-worn trigger
Waiting and weighing my life and worth
His split-second decision never comes
The guns of overwatch bark like dogs of war
The familiar promise is kept today
Some men came home as evening set, some did not
As Afghan mountains watched over an empty valley
Few people are willing to understand that perspective makes reality.  Words like friend and foe are completely flipped depending on what side of the coin you happen to be on.
69 · Apr 2020
Sweet Flower
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
Snapdragons
fight
Tiger Lillie's
emerald enchanted forest
casting shade on a sunny day

in this garden world war
you stand away
from a bed of weeds
a violet Rose
my sweet flower

your purple tone
is seen for miles
amidst an ocean
of green and red and orange
yellow, black, and brown
68 · Feb 2020
Show yourself
Michael Stefan Feb 2020
Materialize, **** you!
I claw at floorboards, fingers grow ******
I know you're here, waiting and watching
Wanting me to slip
Slip back into a sedated haze
Throwing myself away in a gilded dumpster
With ****** filigree to adorn
The walls hung with pictures to my past mistakes
But I will rip you out of me
And cast you into time and space
As you twist wicked tendrils around the next fool
With soft silky face you ******
The unwitting and unwilling to change
But I will change myself
If I have to take steel spades and dig you out of my heart
I would rather lie ****** on filthy bedsheets
As cold shivers climb through my bones
Then let you grip me again
And bury me in black tar dreams
Yep.  I know.
68 · Jun 2020
Gecko
Michael Stefan Jun 2020
My heart is a gecko,
Turning green and looking lean,
Scampers along my ribs,
Eating butterflies that escape,
Desiring the cool,
So it climbs to my feet,
Until curiosity strikes again,
Ascend and ascend,
It takes over my head
I just thought it was an interesting metaphor.
68 · May 2020
Internment
Michael Stefan May 2020
I will wear my collar,
Of flesh and skin bound tight
This pop-up meat tuxedo,
Will fall apart eventually

Sometimes the suit itches-
Like it was tailored
Of heavy wool and corduroy

Sometimes the weight is too great-
Dragging my hardened soles
Of human leather

Our bodies are a prison-
Interning the mind and soul
Until our skeletons cease to dance

But every sentence has its end-
I'll hold hands with you
Into the sunset
As we fly the coup
And escape into the ether
I think that most people view death as a terrifying end of the only thing we have known.  I like to believe after we pass on, we find a peace that we have never known and will welcome the chance for some rest.
68 · Mar 2020
spray can revolution
Michael Stefan Mar 2020
touched by the fist of God
we rise with paint cans
we take to the streets
instruments of change in our hands

i'll color your red with black and blue
hey orange headed ******, you need a new hairdo

i'll color your blue with a realistic earth tone
remind you of the cost of all of the gauntlets you've thrown

pastel pretty pinks for your weasely face
paint your town yellow to highlight your disgrace

stand up for the little guy!
stand up for your rights!
pen is mightier than sword
in this spray can respite

i'll color your sorrow in gold
i'll color your weakness in bold
vibrant spray paint clear coat
so we can see all the lies that you've told

touched by the fist of God
paint can revolution coming round
stop bystandering your way through life
and bring color and class to your town
This is one of my oldest poems that was written as I began to really get into painting.  I took a tour to D.C. and got to see some of the revolution expressions of art that was so famous from Andy Warhol to John Trumbull.  Art is beautiful and we need to keep creating it!

Also, I adapted the original political statements in the second and third stanza to reflect our current political climate.  Otherwise, I did very little editing to this piece.  I love its infantile simplicity.
67 · Feb 2020
[Jackal]
Michael Stefan Feb 2020
They all gnashed their teeth and snarled
Fed by evening news of sensational delights
This meal divides them, one squad against another
Their cackling splits the peaceful night

Their spittle soaks the blood-drenched ground
Yellow eyes gaze with maniacal rage
Single-minded to scavenge and consume
As writers fill teleprompters' page

Logic lost in frenzied carnage
Horrid breath from yellowed teeth
As these jackals howl, "feed us more!"
Caverns filled with bones of human grief

We the people of a more perfect union
Trapped between beasts set to conquer
My country 'tis of empty-headed politics
As You, I, We become the monster
66 · Apr 2020
Levity
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
Despair and disrepair
Fingers caught
In knotted hair
Anxious worry twirling
Alone in wicker chairs
Longing for a comedy
As we are given tragedy
Sweet words to be
Could bring some levity
And some hope
Would bear great gravity
As it pulled me
back from my dark clouds
65 · Jun 2020
some people
Michael Stefan Jun 2020
if you were an app,
I'd delete you
at the door?
I won't greet you
you're just a foreign invader-
and I will defeat you
Isn't it awful when your family brings someone toxic into their life and just won't listen to anybody about how awful they are?
65 · May 2020
touch me
Michael Stefan May 2020
touch me
where I hurt
I need fingers
to plug the holes
before I fade
out of light
and into dark

touch me
to cool me
and ebb my fever
and my brain
begins to cook
in cast iron
and oil

touch me
in my heart
I fear and I can't
feel the feelings
that used to make me
smile
when you smiled first
I think we have all felt a little manic when we are hurt.
63 · Apr 2020
Into the Future!
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
MARCH FORWARD
no time to wait
no time to waste
no time for time
to wind away
we're into space
you're in my space
extreme development
advanced disgrace
you took your turn
resources to burn
and still, you yearn
we never learn
WE TRAMPLE THE WEAK
WE HURDLE THE DEAD
LISTEN TO OTHERS
NOT JUST A VOICE IN YOUR HEAD

we're in the future now
Never forget that advancement comes with a price.  Take time to appreciate where you are and not just where you want to be.
63 · Feb 2020
Epic
Michael Stefan Feb 2020
Great words are spoken every day
But so many of them go unrecognized
Because great words are rarely about the words themselves
But about the timing
And about the audience
Perhaps it's time we stop and listen
63 · May 2020
Why
Michael Stefan May 2020
Why
each day
of dark clouds
and gray rain
darker tidings
and cold pain
as clouds drift
on high
through sleet
and snow
and darkened sky
I clasp my head
in my hands
with wintery sigh
and wonder
through thunder
Dear Lord,
...why?
Sometimes there are too many injustices in the world to keep them from seeping in.
62 · May 2020
holding your breath
Michael Stefan May 2020
those days you cannot breathe
and pain seems to flow with ease
are the days we push on through
though our act is never true
better to pretend to fly
instead of laying down to die
Sometimes it's hard to fake the funk and have everyone believe that you are doing alright.
62 · Apr 2020
Confinement
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
Tin cups
rattle steel bars
no birds
no bees
no sounds of cars
on open freeway
far and wide
chains and manacles
stuck inside
a makeshift shiv
of broken picture frame
wrapped in leather
oiled in soap
each passing day
diminishes hope
until I can't
take anymore
I carve each day
on my front door
Cabin fever is starting to drive me nuts.  I only get to leave the house to do response work so it's either cooped up or terrified.  What a great year 2020 is shaping up to be.
62 · Jun 2020
Two Tales of Love
Michael Stefan Jun 2020
Brick it in                                                       Set it free
Burn it down                                           Watch it grow
Hold it tight                                       Release your grip
Bind it                                                                 Find it
Never again                                              Until Forever
Passion and fury sometimes burn just as brightly in the world of love as nurturing and caring.  We all live a duality in both columns from time to time.
62 · Apr 2020
Human Dissection
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
I am filled with rage and pain
I am filled with longing and loss
I am filled with the human condition
It is just as it was
I am filled with you
And all your weaknesses
And you are filled with mine
We are locked in static displays
Pointing fingers like kids at zoos
With little hope
For you to actually see
What's inside of me
I always found it hard
To see what's inside of you
61 · Feb 2020
American Red
Michael Stefan Feb 2020
Hard it feels against my back and gleaming of a crimson red
Conjures images of elephants, roll tide the crowd all said
American as apple pie, as pageantry, 4th of July
My father’s dreams as a large green woman traversed his eye
My sweetheart blushes in my mind, hand held tight
But still, that thick American Red fills the long goodnight
I can hear the band playing, reveille, and taps
One second we are meant to stand, the other to lay back
Many of us snuggled up, no greater dream than love
Some of us build community, praise be to Him above
Some of us moved forward while many of us fled
A universal truth as we’re washed up in American Red
The screams of love are echoing, the shouts of fear are deafening
We trumpet joy, sing of gain and loss, each cry is now strengthening
But none shall hold dominion over the whisper of the wind
Ill intent swept around as the voice is that of Death
And so the story at its end
Foreign soil hard against my back
You will forget everything about me, my sacrifice unsaid
A uniformed American boy, bleeding his American Red
I wrote this poem to express the idea that everyone defines life in different terms.  Very few people will understand the sacrifice made by American Soldiers.  Most people spend their entire creative life devoted to the pursuit and ideal of love, or sadness, or anger.  Very few people will understand a job where death is evident behind every corner.
61 · Apr 2020
My First Haiku
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
we are all students
distracted drawing doodles
rapt for the last bell
61 · Feb 2020
Community (10w)
Michael Stefan Feb 2020
No sweeter treat
Than knowledge you're among
A true community
60 · Apr 2020
Serpent
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
Come to me girl
I'll make your dreams come true
You'll be entangled
As I speak in star-spangled
rhetoric to get you quick
And I always leave them mangled
But you know

Just a little closer now
I weave the illusion of freedom
As I work your every angle
Cover you in pretty bangles
As I wrap tighter
And begin to strangle
Smooth like reptile scales

As you gaze into my eyes
You'll never quite realize
How gargantuan
My coils are in size

It was your own fault really
Didn't you see me
I am the constrictor
With your listening ears
And my lies in verse
We both get a little sicker
I wanted to write something that sounded and felt very provocative but was meant to make you think about all the stuff that we have blindly believed and listened to.  False friends, sensationalist news, wicked lovers.  The warning signs are always there but sometimes we get caught in our own fantasy and we don't want to see the truth.
60 · Mar 2020
Fiend (10w)
Michael Stefan Mar 2020
Even greatest deeds
can not forever hide
our truest intentions
60 · Jun 2020
Hopeless Romantic
Michael Stefan Jun 2020
Dating in your 30s is hard
Everyone wants to be in a hook-up polycule
I just want to be part of a molecule
Two beautiful hydrogen atoms
Bonded eternal and providing oxygen
For the other to breathe
This is what I come up with when I think about dating apps.  Last time I was on one, it was tragic and I looked recently to satisfy my curiosity and discovered that people don't even speak the same language as me anymore.  Le sigh.
60 · Apr 2020
Speech
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
Like flour in baked goods,
You must always measure your words,
With appropriate weight,
For the situation addressed,
If you want your speech to convey,
The correct and proper message
59 · May 2020
Goodnight
Michael Stefan May 2020
Glorious sun
Is cut in twain
By distant jagged horizon
Bleeding pink and ochre
Crimson and orange
From its nightly wound

Crickets chirping
In anticipation
For heavy shroud
Of coolest darkness
I love sunsets and feeling the hectic day transition into a calm night
59 · Apr 2020
It's Been Awhile
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
It's been awhile
Since we last laughed
It was at the zoo
Feeding giraffes
Long black tongues
Tickled pink palms
As they ate the crackers
Without qualm

It's been awhile
Since we last kissed
Sweet and salty
A flavor I missed
And hands held
As our bodies touched
Your forgotten T-shirt
I have clutched

It's been awhile
Since we last spoke
Hearing your voice
I begin to choke
This is a simple rhyme scheme that is meant to end abruptly and leave the reader unsatisfied with a 5/8ths progression that needs a 6th or 8th stanza to complete.  The poem's structure is more of a testament to how I felt than the actual words are.
59 · Apr 2020
My Muse of Sorrow
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
All poets speak of muses
To light their way of verse
For us who've lived abuses
Our muse need not bring us mirth

For sorrow is a motivation
It's a loss that guides my pen
My rhymes take form of devastation
My verse speaks of the end

Tragedy sparks fire in my fingers
With bleak outlooks for tomorrow
This saddened spirit always lingers
She's my muse, born out of sorrow
I have always been that person who is spurned to action after something bad happens.  It's a sad way to be sometimes but I find my best poems speak of some of the worst times of my life.  Keep hunting your muse and hope you don't find it in the same box that I have.
59 · Apr 2020
Lock of Hair
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
Auburn curls
droop wide and out of place
with shimmer so bright
like brilliant red lace
brings longing
as I stare
and begin to fill with fear
wishing only to brush that curl
back behind your ear
I was feeling kind of nostalgic and hopeful earlier today and wanted to share a simple rhymescape that describes how a lot of people feel when your crush has that one piece of hair out of place :)  Such a surreal and romantic moment that might be had.
59 · Jun 2020
Fickle
Michael Stefan Jun 2020
speedreading
obituaries
to get to
the good stuff-

-seeking network
technicians
to fix
my spider web
of lies

good benefits,
great travel,
and a free
lollipop or two
...if you smile
for the dentist

flexible hours
that bend
all the rules

collar-up
your noose-knot
tie-
fancy fresh
and fancy-free
with a 13
stanza melody

overtime
is forbidden-
overdrive,
encouraged

put your name
on the dotted line-
time to revel
in constant
employment,
and inconsistent
memos...

...folded sharp,
like daggers
on your skin
This poem is meant to speak of the never-ending drone of dead-end jobs that we would not otherwise take or put up with if desperation and necessity didn't interfere.  The thought of cubicle farms feels so fickle to me.
59 · May 2020
rocket
Michael Stefan May 2020
you are a rocket:
single-minded,
destructive,
and uncaring...
...of who gets hurt
I've always been a friend of measuring my response to any situation.  It appears as if many people don't share this passion I have
58 · Apr 2020
Devoured
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
i was
always
sweet

so she
viewed
me
like marbled
piece
of meat

a tasty
treat

I was
cured
like
blood-
touched
marmalade

and there
i laid

what
a scrumptious
snack
i made

lustfully
she picked
my bones
so clean

no soul
left
to give
my corpse
a shining
sheen
The product of being bored and morose.
58 · Apr 2020
Micro-epic
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
Scream not and be bidden savagery
as weathered is rock wall in raging sea
when broken is the sword you swung
but held tight is handle in your determined grip
I just wanted to smash together some very quick epic-sounding phrases to build something quick, inspiring, and filled with harsh and inspiring imagery!
58 · May 2020
rot and ruin
Michael Stefan May 2020
careful as you tread your path
of thistlewood and vines
for paths are steep, and air is thin
as you reach beyond your time
an empty pack, an empty bottle
no remnants left of wine
we ate the meat and ate the bread
we're left to dine on rinds
from the earth, into the earth
there's an end to every line
a poolside view as you fade away
we're all just doing fine
Existentialist viewpoints are a pain in the ***.  Especially when you can't shake them on a lovely Tuesday morning.
57 · Apr 2020
Never quite awake
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
I can hear your screams
...
in my dreams
as you tumble out
dressed in your Sunday's best
put my sanity to test
harsh sunlight
in the eyes of my windows
...
in my dreams
the mailman knocks
demons tumble from my mailbox
knee-high in woolen socks
to dance
a dance of delight
...
in my dreams
the faceless men
speak on my train ride in
their skin fading
to reveal snow
on an empty television set
I have been watching for years
...
in my dreams
I am never quite sure
if it was him or her
that served my dinner
of fig leaves and disease
snatching wishes
from a swelling breeze
...
in my dreams
I never know if you're real
walking knives up my skin
it all begins
to take me back there
in my waking nightmare
...
in my dreams
57 · Apr 2020
Tone-deaf Orchesta
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
If only it was sound you wanted
I would play you every chord
One after another in ascending scale
Left to right and right to left
As loud as I can make them
I never knew how to put them together
Into song...
I just wanted to make music for you
But like a child fresh to xylophone
I keep playing loud and hard
Left to right and right to left
Even after you've already
Left the concert hall
Yeah, it's another sad poem.  At this point, every poem I have posted in the last week has been from this month and I am no longer digging through the archives.  I can't help but sometimes feel reticent thinking about love and loss.  Hope this inspires someone to play their chords in the right order :)
57 · Apr 2020
Springwind
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
Rippling, budding, blooming flowers
Wave in soft and gentle breeze
Caressing with hint of winter chill
Bitter through my hair

Sun shining and bright above
Forecasting springtime rains
Which reach the fields and hearts
In cold clear cloudy morning

We gather for the Springwind
blowing remnants of winter passing
Frost replaced with dewdrops
Pitter-patter on softened soil

Creaking of the great tall trees
Reached high into the azure sky
Like boney finger dotted landscape
As snow removes its glove

Green shimmering carpet
Covers land with moss and grass
Flowers, brush, and dandelions
Show life fed from below

The Springwind is the sign of life
Earth's signal we all start anew
Tantalizing and wiping our memory
Of impending Autumn's fall
56 · Apr 2020
Toxic (10w)
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
I kissed her
and we made war
again and again
56 · Mar 2020
Waterbed
Michael Stefan Mar 2020
Sometimes,
just sometimes,
I keep my head below the water;
smelling the rose petal scents

Sometimes,
but only sometimes,
I dream of a wave rocking waterbed
and pray for boots of cement
Michael Stefan Jun 2020
One hand gripped some yellow seeds-
The other, seeds stained red
One seed would grow up ****-
The other grows sweet instead

Each fruit would make a lovely juice
That bursts with intense flavor
Despite the ****, to spite the sweet-
Little treats we each would savor

Baked and burned and fricasseed
And placed in ornate wrappings-
Then placed upon a grocery shelf
In boxes of lavish trappings

Don't you see, my sweet-
Finding love is like eating candy?
You open wide and take a bite
To discover lemons **** or cherries dandy
This is my whimsical take on the sweet and sour aspects of love.  Love in full bloom is indulgent and refreshing.  But we all fear the downswing when loving someone leaves us open to the possibility of hurt.  I wanted to craft an almost singsong rhyme about the joys (and sometimes fears) of discovering love.
55 · Apr 2020
My Bad Brother
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
They say you crack your teeth on pearls
But I hope your bite breaks on steel coins
That line your pocket
For mine is filled with a pocket watch
To stay neat and tidy and right on time
Yours is heavy
With dirt and grime
From wicked jobs
And spreading crime
With any God
You'd be doing time
And I'd be there to visit you
With full-toothed grin
To turn the screws
And you can count that I'd have mine
A pocket watch
So I'm right on time
Never put faith in the wrong person.  Usually, if ALL your friends say they aren't worth your time, you should listen.
53 · Feb 2020
he sat quietly
Michael Stefan Feb 2020
he sat,
no noise,
dreaming art,
***** boy,
they shouted,
teased him,
hurt him,
he sat,
in silence,
so different,
finally changing,
quiet broken,
he cried
Sometimes we relive our childhood and remember its wonder and charms.  Sometimes we remember the bad times.  I hated middle school.
53 · Apr 2020
ski lift bandit
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
A man
in long pants,
balaclava,
snow gloved,
grubby fingers,
threadbare jacket,
with logos,
adorned ugly,
foggy goggles,
gold front tooth,
reached up,
and stole,
my pants,
on a ski lift.

Leaving me
naked...
and cold
This monologue is meant to be interpreted in a number of ways.  Is it humorous?  Is it sad?  To you feel bad for the impoverished man?  Is he the protagonist?  If so, am I the antagonist?  You get to decide for yourself.  Let me know what story you see in this poem.
53 · Mar 2020
Empty Mouth
Michael Stefan Mar 2020
No words
Describe today
Sunshine beating me
With warming rays
Sweat on my brow
As I plant some grass
Knuckles ******
As I bust my ***

My lips try to whistle
But no tune presents
Hard work in silence
Gray dust of cement
Ripped jeans
And muddy leather gloves
A heavy sky
No cloud above

My mouth is empty
Of moisture and song
Of well-wishing words
As I toil along
Each movement of dirt
By steel headed *****
Gives way to the big empty
As I dig my own grave
53 · May 2020
Patchwork Hearts
Michael Stefan May 2020
A broken heart
Needs more
Than clever stitches

You can't simply
Turn love on
By flipping some switches

No bandage
Can cover
A throbbing deep sorrow

No candlelight vigil
Can be bright
As the sunrise tomorrow
It's sad but I pray it inspires some hope.
53 · Apr 2020
palace of mirrors
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
your face appears
in each glassy hallway
labyrinthine memories
blue eyes reflected
to my own
your sweet smile
juxtaposed
against my aged face
each shaking finger
wanting to cup your chin
but only touching
cold & flat
52 · Apr 2020
Patriot
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
Free,
     Flying,
          Floating,
                 Flags,
                      Folded,
                            Following,
                                    Funeral,
                                            Rites.
52 · Apr 2020
Filthy
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
Explicit

It starts with a kiss
and heartbeats are raised
I feel your grip
I spit passionate praise
You claw at my flesh
As I tear at your clothes
With back-alley *******
That no one can know
In dark empty places
That nobody goes
Smash lips into mine
As I grip at your hips
Our rhythm in time
As your fingers strip
Animalistic inflamed
You beg for this one
Our passion's untamed
And we've only begun
I wanted to try my hand at a **** poem and wanted it to have a simple, fast rhyme scheme with incomplete thoughts and vivid, almost violent imagery.  Reminds me a lot of...  well... you know ;)
52 · May 2020
(Miss)conception
Michael Stefan May 2020
They called her heartbreaker
In hushed tones
As she walked around town

They called her heartbreaker
Not knowing
She was broken-hearted
Sweet image hiding
A boiling ocean
Of breaking waves

They called her heartbreaker
But she only swung the hammer
Trying to shape
Her own foundation
In a way that pleased her
Not you

They called her heartbreaker
But no one ever
Bore their own blame
Surely, she swung a hammer
But each of them in turn
Chose to put their heart
In the way

They called her heartbreaker
And as sure
As any slur
It was spit with force
Around the town
And she smiled
A little smile
Cause she had built a mansion
For her heart on the inside
And she wore the title
Like a gilded badge of pride
This poem is a monologue that is meant to discuss standards of beauty and victim-blaming that are ever so prevalent in our society today.  Take responsibility
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