How to explain the pain
Of feeling nothing
To a world made of broken hearts and bones?

How to justify
a shivering body
To a world that is hell and is burning?

How can one call for help
For one's drowning
To a world brought to its knees by draught?

I can only bow my head at their suffering
And dare to say that
Though my heart and bones are intact
I am broken as a whole

I can only bow my head at their suffering
And meekly mutter with a moist mouth
That though their tongues are dry and skin is cracking
Cold too is a thirst for warmth

I can only bow my head at their suffering
And whisper that as I drown
Surrounded by clear icy water
My lungs burn like the tallest fire.
You held the knife
as I guided it into my own heart
The first time was painful;
stinging as it pierced through my skin,
paying no mind to the bones that lived there

I placed all the blame on you
But still, you kept that knife
And you learned how to use it without my guidance
Again and again

You wanted to help stitch me back together
But you don't have the expertise
So you used tape
With the slightest movement the tape would fall;
taking me with it

And I've never healed
A scar will always remain
clever 6d
you will be poetry wrapped in skin.
they will melt under your faded gaze.
the spaces between your lungs will be explored.
they will fall in love with the darkness behind your lips.
they will live in the familiarity of your movements.
i will have stripped you of everything that made you the same.
you will be nothing like the person before, for now you are art.
you are simply the words penned onto your bones.
you are a masterpiece in human form.
you made me write, and i made you beautiful.
when we are done, you are perfect.
you are poetry wrapped in skin when i am done.
when i am finished, you will be one of two things.
you will be broken, or you will be beauty.
i cannot let you be both.
Is not equivalent to a broken leg.
Who came up with that analogy?
Someone who hasn't experienced either
Seems the only probability.

It's far more akin to a giant spasm,
Contorting your leg against your will,
And stopping it seems highly unatural,
And each doctor prescribes different pills.

Nobody has fluctuating broken legs,
Or fractured limbs that cause them to count
The precise number of steps they take,
And despair if it's the wrong amount,

Or healing bones that turn reality
Into hallucinatory nightmares,
Or make you stay awake all week,
And start berating chairs.

But the worst of that analogy
(It drives me quite insane!),
Is that broken legs are quick to heal,
And cause a lot less pain.
Another rough one- will I ever finish it? Who knows!
Gale L Mccoy Aug 10
my hollow bones ache from
the crack they breathe
marrow gone dry
nothing left for
the birds of scavenge
ill take these useless bones
and throw them down a hill
wherever they fall
I will divine
Amanda Aug 9
Mornings
Are like sitting in
A dew-dropped sunrise.
Everything is fresh,
And new,
And glowing.

I love
To just sit
And exist in the morning sunrise.
I love to feel it’s warm
And loving embrace
Surround my lifeless body.

The beautiful melodies
Of the sweetly singing sparrows,
The elegant beauty of the summer hue
And the bustle of the breeze
Remind me of a place I once called home.

As I sit in the dewy morn,
I remember what was once home,
Where my cold and empty bones once laid to rest.
A place filled with comfort and hope
Long since drowned in tears and fear.

I love to watch the sun rise.
It reminds my silent heart of what once was.
But, I know that come sunset
My soul will once more return to its darkness.
shima Aug 6
i came back to the water
full of sweet clouds and rot
where my weary bones
rest gently without thought

yet the waves drown me
under [memories of] insomniac lights
the bitterly sinking heart
and a few ephemeral nights
after a week, a crush or two developed. whatever. can't be helped.
Rachel Aug 3
Sometimes i remember
The nights of alone
Not laying in bed just by myself
But truly, completely, alone.

Its dark outside
But that doesnt compare
To how dark it is inside
This house of flesh.

Skin, bones, muscle
I learn every day about them,
How they move, how they express
But not how they love.

Isnt it crazy
We use these parts to love
But these parts alone arent anything
Other than bodies just touching bodies.

What about thoughts?
Are thoughts love?
A human brain has thoughts
From the time its born to death.

When do we formulate thoughts of love.
To our mom when she nurses?
Or our dad when he checks for monsters?
Dolls, toys, trucks, when is there love?

But the soul is different.
There is no soul scan
Or soul therapy.
It just, is.

Its alive without being woken up
Its there when everything is broken
But what is it filled with?
Spirit, passion, love.

It is not in our bodies to love
It is not in our brains to love
It is in our soul
Our third part.

Maybe that is whats missing.
I forgot to feed you.
Youre withering away
Like anything would.

A body without food is broken
A brain without books is empty
And a soul without nuture,
What happens then?

Broken. Empty. Death.
A soul without nurture is dead.
Nothing happens without a soul.
No life, no love, no awakening.

Was my soul here from the beginning?
Is there a start and end to you?
There is to my body and my brain
But what about you?
ph Jul 30
I have once again, left
open the door to
my heart and
the wasps have found
their way in.
The fluttering in my bones
was not from the
butterflies.
It was the sharp sting of
falling in love
with you.
m Jul 29
i avoid thinking about the future.
i get too caught up
regretting things
and wishing for others.

but when i do,
i think of how
i have one chance at life
and that frightens me.

i'm rightfully terrified
of unfilled potential
and missing out
on great things.

i want to see the world:
go to the moon,
touch a star,
and live it all.

i want to be famous,
a nobody,
a something,
and a nothing.

i want all perspectives.
all possible jobs and
many exciting adventures
that leave me on my toes.

i want to fight,
but i also want to spy.
i want to soar,
and i want to hide.

i want to be so many things,
i feel greatness destined in my bones,
but i'm scared ill never get to it
and be less than exceptional.
i don't want to grow up, because eventually all my dreams will die and ill be following a mediocre path that wasn't intended for me.
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