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spiky heart
falling into my lap
pulling out the threads from my jumper on the way down

have you ever tasted the sting
of jagged love
as it finds the quickest way out?
I wouldn't worry too much,
mo chara,
it's not your greatest weakness.
fiachra breac Oct 23
shards scatter outwards like stars,
spiralling away from the centre of your universe

finding rest in soft, pink flesh,
wriggling close to the
warm cavern in my chest.

brilliant blinding light
shimmers beneath the surface;

short, sharp, shocked
intake of breath:

“Destruction is a form of creation.”
fiachra breac Sep 10
dark clouds linger on the horizon,
you can just make them out.

summer, you've been


my head stops working. what words surmise the whole picture? how do I stay true to events, when my heart hurts? who am I really upset with? everyone else, or the wreck I see inside? this is a hard path to follow, I am long out of practice. I want goodness, wholeness, honesty - and that includes the sad and the difficult. I want Jesus. I don't want my volatility any longer,  and I know it's a journey, but goodness I long for its end.

I want to love those around me, even those keep making it difficult to. I want to be light and joy, not bitter and cruel. I need more God, and less conchúr... it is just taking a little while.


summer, you have been,
and whatever comes next,
I know where my anchor lies.

dark clouds linger on the horizon,
you can make it out of this alive.
a prayer? on another sleepless night.
who gave you the right
to collect other people’s misery?
heartaches and tears,
are not yours to own.

don’t you dare take my name,
it is yours no more;
not my life, not my soul,
not my home.

tá m’ainm! tá mo bhaile! tá m’anam seo!

with sweet voice,
and deft fingers,
you rewrite the pages,
to suit some plan of your own.

but my name? and his? and his?
our county, our place, our home?

stand upon your lonely ridge,
gaze down towards this fort,
and see:

taking others’ names is dangerous
when you don’t know what they mean.
fiachra breac Aug 21
falling in love with a hurricane,
isn't nearly as dramatic as it sounds
better to rip the plaster off now
fiachra breac Jul 26
I will never stand in the way
of who you want to be,
but if this is it,
I want to be free.

my heart cannot take anymore,
it is being pummelled from all sides.
but from you?
I can’t tell the truth from the lies.

you tell me I matter,
that you care,
that the only thing you want is that feeling - there -

caught in the moonlight,
wrapped in each other’s arms,
I fool myself in to believing
that this is what I want.

your love isn’t broken,
it’s simply on pause,
and I fear its resumption,
for I will be gone.

I can’t sneak round in shadows,
nor stand by your back,
while you **** me in secret,
and snort strangers’ crack.

don’t tell me you want me,
then take it back,
over and over,
because I think I have cracked.

my head is soup,
left on the boil.
my body is dead foliage,
rotting under the soil.
22ú meitheamh --> 26ú iúil
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