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Marília Galvão Jan 2018
He came as he was
And she, as he wouldn't have imagined
Cracks of her artistic nature
Overwhelming every cell of her palm
The fragility of an inviting craziness
Captivating his instinct for drowning
her impetuous gaze
Shouting a child's malice
The absurdity of her coherence
Killing him of laughs

He read her silently, she was the book that turns off the light
of the room
And
The reader's, drenched in the revealed chapters

Torn between the doctrine of his sense of justice
And
The torment of smiles caged in 'if'

Oppressed by an unfamiliar circumstance
And
unpronounceable desires

Ripped between her disarming perfume
And
His non-existent suicidal vocation
August 2017
Jason Drury  Feb 15
A book
Jason Drury Feb 15
If I gave you my soul,
would you read each page?
Scribble notes of interest
and know me.
Would you take the time,
to help tape the seams?
Would you mend,
the fragility of my soul?
It tears and rips,
easily, emotionally.
Tolani Aug 2018
We were both love. I was a sunflower and you were a snowflake. Both beautiful and gentle but unable to coexist effectively because flowers can’t blossom in the cold.

Yet when it ended, the truth became misconstrued.
Suddenly I was a rose thorn that pricked you till you bled.
And you were a greedy bee that ****** the life out of me and left me empty.

We created false portrayals of each other to make this all a bit easier to deal with.

But the truth will always stay.

We were both beauty, purity, fragility, love.
We just weren’t meant to give our love to each other.

And now we both bleed, because the hardest part is accepting we were never meant to be.
We were never meant for each other..
A  Sep 2018
**old repost**
A Sep 2018
I want you to imagine fixing a watch, all the tiny little parts
And I want you to imagine fixing a watch with broken hands
An overly involved metaphor for the idea that you can’t fix someone else when you yourself are broken

I fell in love with this image of drugs and ***** and rock and roll
And the reckless way you lived your life despite the fragility
When I found myself broken I spent years picking up shards of glass and trying to put them back together
You swallowed yours with a bottle of whiskey and marched on

I think you’ve always seen me as someone who could fix you
I’ve never been able to do that
And that’s why you come back whenever you feel like killing yourself or you’ve finally decided that you want someone to come home to that doesn’t live inside a bottle

I’m still picking up glass
I wish I could love you enough to fix you
But I won’t ever be waiting for you at home
There’s too much glass
There’s not enough time

Even if I could find a way to go back and fix that watch I can’t use it to turn back time
We’re here right now
And my hands are broken
Everything is
Old *** repost poem
Jason Drury  Apr 2013
Family
Jason Drury Apr 2013
Summer seeped in night
And I standing in shimmer
In forefront of the door
Watching a moth
Hover by the bulb
Chirps in the distance
Set the silence in tune
Staring like radio static
At the moth and light
I tune out the cries and abuse
Of the one who gave warmth
you were there… you know
in impaired stumble
on the edge of light
out of the dark
you grabbed…me
by my scruff
hurled the fragility
into the bed of your chariot
you screeched
“We are going to Cali”
the horse power rumbled
we drove
and I like radio static
never took my eyes
off the bulb or moth
Harsh  Jul 2015
Glass Lion
Harsh Jul 2015
I roar with a bravado
that echoes throughout
the deepest caverns
of brave souls

yet with every time
there lies a risk
of my own reverberations
shattering my heart

I am fragile glass
fashioned into
the fearsome form
of a lion

I have been chiseled at by
Father Time and Mother Earth,
carved away by my pains
and my worries.

I am no façade;
there is nothing ornate
about me designed to
hide something heinous

I can shatter
just as easily
as my mother’s
prized china set

But I roar on
even as I chip away;
my joints creaking
and my body scorched.

Do not mistake my
scratches and cracks
for weakness,
I have demons of my own.

I walk this ground
with the hope
that my roars,
in spite of my fragility,

will instill a sense of hope
into all of you
with glass hearts
such as mine.
This piece was inspired by this -> http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1110481/paper-lion/ which doesn't seem to be working, but the piece was entitled "Paper Lion"
sophia  Aug 2018
dear
sophia Aug 2018
and to you do i deem another one of these elongated rambles of words bowed down to us by gorgeous sundancers. dear true love, is it painful— that you fell from heaven carrying a satin piece of you coating me in your tempting warmth? i wish it weren’t; your response to pain is not what lavishes you to a perfect sunbeam but rather an all-knowing traveller. countless of letters have been shipped down from the bounty to your lost paradise; missing you, as if the clouds have taken you in the fastest they possibly could. now i would never understand how it feels to be held in close proximity again; with tenderness adjacent to a fairy’s whisper. but this open letter allows you to realise of the poetry living within your bones. that no matter how sturdy it takes for the fragility to break through, there will always be love residing. from me, in you. i’ll be waiting in mornings, holding the moon on my hand, standing on the wild grand on the universe that we’ll never compare to. but trust me, that’s what you are to me. you’re on top of everything else that comes to live and breathe.
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