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 Apr 14 T J W
 Apr 14 T J W
i feel like i’m made of glass
and last february,
you broke me.
i shattered.

you didn’t know
and you didn’t care
and you just. kept. pushing.

i broke into a million jagged pieces
and you
you took some of them with you.
i can’t get them back
and i’m not ****** enough to try.

you shattered me
and i was careless enough
to cut myself in the wreckage.

nothing was the same.

you broke me when i said no
and i thought
i could put myself back together
by saying yes--
again, and again, and again.
to strangers.
to friends.
to anyone who would listen,
and now all of my bridges are in flames
and i’m getting burned.

do you know what happens to burning glass?
i do.
it’s happening to me

and i’m starting to fly away in the wind,
slipping through my own fingers
like sand on the beach.
scattered so far
and so wide
that finding my way back together is like searching
for a single grain
on the ocean floor.

i'm drowning in my past
for a lifeline
reaching for anything--
for anyone--
that will take me
that will tape me back together
 Mar 21 T J W
I'm not afraid of commitment.
I'm afraid of giving up control.
Of letting another person in.
Who can just walk back out.
 Feb 2 T J W
“only” the lonely know (my special sign)


an incurable silence

the meaningless, wasted touch of a hand,
attached, directed by them from them
to them
a failed reassurance

a classroom, a stadium, cornfield or grove,
so many nutted fallen solitaries fallen to rot
midst a globe of trillions never noticed,
never missed

the silly conceptual that the lonely,
special unique, blessed with a curse,
a specialist status, “only” they afflicted;
with a ken that isolates and yet feels elevated -
oh! I am special

show me one, just one, human who doesn’t truly believe,
they are the onliest loneliest and you will vision
each and every
lonely person who
secret sighs and whose first thoughts are only:

god spare me one more day of being,
fearful of achieving
my very own knowing,
in the invisible place,
the incurable silence award,
reward of another purple heart,
“only” the lonely service ribbon,
my Cain marker

~my special sign~

what a wonderful reception to my first poem!

thank you,
less fearful!
concept: it is 7:10 in the morning, my room is bathed in gold from the sun’s slow ascension. It is a beautiful life
 Dec 2018 T J W
m i m a y
 Dec 2018 T J W
m i m a y
You want me, when I do not want you.
When I want you, you do not want me anymore.
 Dec 2018 T J W
 Dec 2018 T J W
Today I've realized the weight of the word someday
It's empty
It has no hope
It's painful

It's the worse kind of torture
For an innocent soul.
It's not today
Or the next day
It's someday
 Dec 2018 T J W
Poetic Eagle
 Dec 2018 T J W
Poetic Eagle
It's so hard fighting for things that dont wanna be fought for
It's like fighting an invisible battle
Idk maybe its better to let go
 Dec 2018 T J W
moon child
When you first
Did you

The way you
When you first
 Dec 2018 T J W
 Dec 2018 T J W
Waking up everyday is quiet similar to attending my own funeral, and I can’t express to you enough the lack of remorse in the room

the stench of my own death long ago hangs over me in a fog so thick and so suffocating I might as well
be dead
 Dec 2018 T J W
 Dec 2018 T J W
My writing does not hit
As hard as it once did
The bullets I shoot from my mouth
They are not nearly as precise
Is it possible
I’m losing my
Ability to
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