it is that of my greatest curiosity
which have led me to question
how a simple, average girl like me
could be both weightless and heavy
at the same time.

i plan every anchor that grounds me
planting them like flower seeds
in flower beds, and not cement
i drive each steel into school desks
at corners and shared beds
trying to escape not reality
but the worlds i built for myself

meanwhile chanting
"i fit in, i fit in, i fit in"
among a room full of beating hearts
and breaking hearts
i conjure distance - tied neatly
like a bouquet as i try to stay away

because planting anchors on people
is not the most ideal way to stay.

Carm Cerdan Aug 3

lesson 101, that's how i call it
a game i play, my life at stake
i look at you then far away
if i ever smile i make a mistake

if you're close to me i count
up to three, and then i stop
staying still so you won't feel
and hear my heartbeat drop

i must admit it is not easy
the worst i ever was in a game
one look of yours in my direction
i lose, i lose, it's all the same

but what a funny game, right?
one which i might never win
although there is no reward
to lose in this would be a sin

damn you. you know i am a sore loser. damn. you.
  Aug 3 Carm Cerdan

Just kill me God

Please dammit. I can't take all this damage.
Carm Cerdan Jul 24

don't be disappointed if
you think
you don't write enough.

you are walking poetry, a
breathing epitome of art.
you make up for it every
second of your life.

to all poets out there ~ thank you for sharing your works, your heart, your thoughts. and tbh i would love to meet more poets around the world!
Carm Cerdan Jul 15

your eyes weren't my first

but then it's the deepest
one yet.

maybe i was only destined
to marvel,

and all along destined to hurt

Damn your ocean eyes.

Never fall in love with a poet
for their words are sometimes lies
on occasions they're a shield
on occasions a disguise

They will take you on a journey
upon which they bare their soul
in a bid to ease your burdens
in a bid to make you whole

But in every word they choose
for the stories that they tell
lies a little piece of heaven
and a little piece of hell

Tormented souls we poets are
sometimes quite broken and despaired
in search of lost expressions
missed by others who once cared

Never fall in love with a poet
unless you're prepared to share their pain
to hold them close on the darkest nights
over and again

Follow me on Twitter @athomashawkins
Carm Cerdan Jun 21

she breaks like this,
you just don't know it.

she breaks at 9 am in the dairy lane
of the nearest grocery store with
a list of what to buy and of what
to regret.

she breaks when she laughs but
it just doesn't seem right even
when the joke is so bad it's good
or her.

she breaks as she makes a call
people probably don't expect
because it's just out of the blue
and isn't her at all.

she breaks when the sun has risen
and her skin glows golden and radiant
she'd fix herself breakfast and it's the only
thing she'll attempt to fix.

she breaks when you tell her you love her
and as you treat her with revelation
but the only thing she thinks about
is how her body betrayed her.

she breaks when they call her 'pretty'
and maybe she'll appear flustered
they don't know her mirrors back home
makes her heart recoil.

she breaks when you don't see it
because she doesn't want you to
at all.

she breaks and you won't have a clue
because she doesn't even know that
she is.

lately i've been writing a lot to cope with what i feel and what i observe from around me.

she breaks, but she's alive. for her that's more than enough.
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