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The fairytale of America
is dead to me
Killed by a ******* in horns
Maybe my veil has simply been lifted
Long has it been so for others
while still others never knew
its comforting shade
A reverence as meaningful now
as that for Santa Claus
Was my faith so brittle so ignorant
Is it still
Seems so
**** I don't know
I need to visit those stones again
let them speak through the cold
They were never silent but
maybe now I won't be deaf to their story
maybe now I'll listen
maybe now
Terra Levez Nov 2020
My courage
My strength
My bravery

It's all a show for those who see
Inside I'm hoping no one will test them
And see that they break in use
in practice
in walk
like brittle bones
Osteogenesis imperfecta is a disease that causes bones to break easily.
N Jul 2020
My brittle heart
longs to be held
by your small hand
Eli May 2020
My mind is a minor flutter;
Looping movies within ultimate stutters.
I'd tell you I'm feeling better,
But I am a stick of butter.

I look into gaze of grateful maze,
Only to pop amongst unholy haze.
My mind is beautiful,
But what is the craze?
My ego deserves to jump into my idiot blaze.
I hope this is a phase.

Little do I know that I am an end;
Whether I am today or tomorrow, it depends,
Though it will come soon.
The red blends with my toothpaste.
I am falling apart
I can feel it
How long will I last?
Let my stamina tell you when the time comes
Amna Khan Apr 2020
Brittle, broken, beaten
I carry in my chest
a moldy stone.
It used to flutter once
and beat harmoniously.
Medusa's hair,
coiling around this planet
finally found it.
And now my heart is only a moldy stone, all thanks to this cruel world.
My body's shaking,
my bones are breaking.
Something from many, many years ago.
Lily Feb 2020
I forgot how it felt to be hungry
How your bones rack for crumbs on the bottom of your heart
My bones feel like brittle; ready to break at a gush of wind
But Brittle is candy
Candy is a sweet delicacy of whom people like me refuse to have
Candy is what I believe I can be
Only if I change into one of those target plastic models
Perfect and pristine, standing as if they are mocking me
Making fun of my creatures in the dark
And my not-so-ideal summer body
I just want a summer body
I want to see what other people see in me
I want to be all that I could be if I was pretty
So I start dropping things off of my menu, drop by drop
First a side dish, then my sugary drink
That drink should go to hell for how much weight it makes me gain
I reach down my throat until my regrets come back up
Reminding me I cannot be pretty the way other girls get to be
Ducking to the restroom after a meal
Anxiety overwhelming every ounce of me as soon as I eat
There is beauty in pain, right?
Or beauty is pain?
Either way, they are correlated
That is good enough to allow me to turn myself in who I want to be
I was over this, I thought I was over being hungry
But then a man stared at me while I was walking to Walgreens
I do this to be beautiful for just a moment
But I also do this to disappear
Don’t look at me like that flesh of meat that day on that broken night
I want it to go away even if it means my bones shake on a sunny day
Even if my soul weeps at night
Even if my friends pick up on what’s wrong
Oh, please don’t pick up on what’s wrong
Can’t you see what you’re doing to me?
Let me be in control of my body
Watch me clatter to the floor and please don’t help me
Let me shake and quake
Watch me wear a heavy sweater and get out of breath walking
Let me substitute food for sweet vapor in my lungs
oooh it tastes sweet like brittle
Let me disappear
Please just let me disappear.
Trigger warning! This is a personal experience so please be nice :)
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2019
Planted with love,
watered by compassion,
fertilized with the light of our presence.

But it was all an illusion,
for the it was planted in betrayal,
watered with disappointments,
fertilized with lies
and maintained by fakes.

Our roses were red,
but now they are dead.
Weak and brittle petals,
crumbling beneath my feet.
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2019
Once upon a time
I was sweet, soft and bright
Now I am dry, hard and dark
When did I stop looking at the sky,
chasing the warm sensuality
and start slouching to the ground.

Hue and texture are no longer the same,
my thorns have been magnified
with the petals of my love
crumbled and withered away.
I am no longer the same.
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2019
Like the rose was our love,
watered with the best of selves,
soaked in the light of our presence;
flourishing and blooming.
But now memories are crumbling
and our love is withering and fading.
A dead rose is the only remainder
from a life of beauty and admiration.
Now we love in the shadows
and stolen whispers
of the weak and brittle petals
Save the love and memories, that these petals now carry
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