#brokenness poems on Hello Poetry

Rachel W Dec 2015

Glass

I do not
think that I
was meant
to break away

For now
My thoughts are scattered
and
shattered
like shards of
glass

I
do not know when
I will find
a light
or a hope
for me
in this darkness
that drowns
me

I do not
think that I
was meant
to break away

For now I
cannot sleep
I have
no
identity

I am
broken
and forgotten
crushed underfoot
by the
masses
like
shattered glass

We are made of the finest spun glass, just waiting to be shattered.

#brokenness #fragility #self-worth

Windsor I Guadalupe Jr Dec 2015

Deep In December

quite drunk in this evening tender with rue – there is a gentle hand
that whirls against the bougainvillea.

things remain to be constantly in the tranquil as I am not
yet shaken in my fragile frame –

the leaves rustle in the 19 degree cold moon,
the beer bottles emptied, stacked beside the receptacles.
she and I could be dead, and it took me 3 years to know this:

there is a photograph of her thrown somewhere
behind scraps of metal, caged there, like a jailbird
in a jailhouse, screaming blue against redness.

I had love, and love died.
you neither flinch nor move at the very slight of me,
passing over the porch of your reading.
the thing that once moved now festers
with stillness, and so many vibrant explosions begin in the sky
and there is nothing discernible in her abject eyes.

I remember driving past your home in front of
a little, quaint house and I swore that the even your voice
speaks to me in evenings full with the thought
of never knowing you again.

you are so real like the horse that grazes the field
underneath umbilicus of power-lines,
yet so fake and feigned like the truth that tries
to assess itself , crawling mazy back into my drunken arms
like a child startled speaking a thousand things
I have already no use for.

sometimes the sun is like a house on fire.
sometimes the simmer of onion smells like ******.
most of the time, the look on my face, half-drunk and half-believing,
looks like a night distilled and fractured by voices.

I will never ask for your hands to touch,
I will never ask for you body to make heat,
I will never ask for your footsteps to chime in grave music:

I have my own defeats to keep me
that way: toppled and scrounging for light.

let me be.
I have seen many warfares and not a single shot of a rifle
has broken me into the man that I once was.

I drive back to you and it is never the same:
it is banal to say that you have yourself
and I have my own, deep in study.

let us drive back to roads whetted with kisses
and from there, start to disentangle
like leaves from boughs
deep in December.

#love #poem #poetry #sadness #loss #despair #brokenness

her Nov 2015

Prized Possession

I was my fathers prized possession. The finest piece of pottery He had ever crafted.
He worked on me until His hands were pruned.. Until the smell of clay seemingly became His scent. He molded and molded until I was perfect. In His eyes.
He placed me on the top shelf and marveled at me every day and every night.
But His neighbor was overcome with jealousy... At how I glistened at the top of the mantle. At how I gleamed in the sun in all the right places.
You see, on the top of his shelf, lay nothing but dust.
So surely, I had to be destroyed.
In the thick of the night, he stole me off of the mantle and marveled at my greatness.
He brought me back to his place and stuck me in the darkest of rooms.
So that light would never be able to shine on me again.
He spun me on his fingers, no delicacy in his touch.
He tossed me up and down, mocking my beauty.
Day after day I was plagued with the imminent thought of destruction.
Overridden with depression.
I cried out to my potter, and when the thief heard, he ran into the dark room and bellowed "no one will help you", picked me up, and threw me against the ground.
Pieces of me shattered in every direction, strewn against the floor of the enemies house.
My insides, corrupted with sin from all the time collected in this place were brought forth.
All I could hear was the wicked laugh taunting me, exclaiming  "who could love you now"?
Then suddenly a light shone in my face, something I hadn't seen in years.
Every broken piece of me looked up and saw my potters face, with tears rolling down his cheeks.
He began to pick me up in an attempt to put me back together...
Abba!! I cried! Your fingers! They will bleed!
My daughter, he replied, I have one  hole in each of my hands!! My love for you has endured much more than a few scratches upon my fingertips!
He continued to piece me back together, not missing a beat, not missing a piece.
He shielded me from the looking eyes of judgement, bearing the stripes on His back for leverage.
Abba!! I cried out again, can't you see all of the sin that filled me?! I am no longer perfect! How can you love me?
I understand your sin, my daughter!  in it, my grace is perfected! You are my creation, you are my reason! Upon making you whole again, I will not put back your transgressions!
He finalized the touches, not missing one piece.
He wiped my face, not missing one tear.
He renewed my heart, not missing one beat.
He carried me back home and presented me in His name to his Father.
Took His seat upon His throne and placed me on the mantle, right by His side, letting his glory shine on me.
He smiled and said "welcome home, my daughter, welcome home."

Coming into Christianity, this is how I felt. It hasn't been easy. This is my story, in its simplest form. My battle and my victory.

#love #broken #christian #healing #christianity #brokenness #unconditional #agape #clay #potters

Em Nov 2015

I've Forgotten

I've forgotten how to breathe without you. Every breath is shallow and new. It feels like winter is surrounding me. The cold, the crass, the confusion. With every breath, I exhale your memory. Your touch, your smell, your kiss, your smile.

What a contagious smile.
What I would give to see it overcome your face, one more time.

I've forgotten how to sleep without you. I close my eyes and you are all that I see. It used to be that thinking of you, remembering you, was the only way I would fall asleep. I used to think about the first day I met you. The moment our eyes met for the first time. How as we walked, I tried walking as close to you as I could, without making you feel uncomfortable, because I longed for the moments when your skin would brush across mine. I use to think about how it felt when you would come up behind me and hold me for a minute, every time you thought I was asleep. But now, every time I close my eyes I see you. I see what we had. What we lost. I don't know how to sleep without you.

I have forgotten how to live without you. I did it for 18 years before you, but in the short time we spent together, you have made me forget. I can't sleep. I can't eat. I can't go anywhere or do anything. I feel so lost, broken, confused, dead.

I have forgotten how to exsist in a world where you do not.

But have no fear, do not worry.
You will never be forgotten.

Written 11.17.15

Have you forgotten too?

#love #broken #pain #confused #boyfriend #dead #loss #hurt #memory #brokenness

Pieter Andries Christiaan Oct 2015

Summer never came

The late afternoon sun
peeks worriedly through the window
, too afraid to touch the bed
on which I lie
living , next to the dead.

He breaths faintly
, a whispered ghost
morbidly fatigued by
the loneliness he chokes on.

Every breath is a lifetime
and this immortal man
has died like the old gods
over and over again.

His bones rattle as his
spirit tirelessly shakes
and shudders in the cold
of his heart.

Although sweat poured
out of every overheated part
of his broken body...
I could see winter
on the horizon of
his faded eyes.

That is when I knew
that summer never came
over the thresholds of
such a broken life.

And inside his soul gave up
playing his ribs like
an anxious xylophone.

Summer never came,
but I fear winter
is in fact
closer to it's inevitable absence.

#suicide #fear #depression #death #anxiety #loss #darkness #nothing #brokenness

Earl Jane Jul 2015

Illuminating Broken Pieces

•

                    You've broken my heart into fragments,

And those pieces,

                               Became the stars that light my pitch-black moments,

It became an ornament of my life,


                Little gems that gleams my night,

Their abundance embellish the darkness,

                                    It makes my life marvelous and worth living for!

         'Cause stars are an exceptional beauty in the  dark sky,

                                    Like my brokenness has it's rare beauty,

             Everyone sees it, but few appreciates.

      'Cause only infrequent times,

                                      With individuals having chuffed personality,

              That people makes blissful atmosphere,

Out of wicked situations.

                           © Earl Jane
                             ♥ E.J.C.S.

#love #heart #beauty #stars #brokenness

Aaron Combs Jun 2015

The Piano

There's a white piano in my soul.
The keys are broken, off tone, and some
are just not there.
I try to stop playing it,
but the silence keeps going,
and the people leave.
So I play it as long as I can,
As long as the white ivory notes
should play, till
the quiet chaos is diminished.

As I walk, there are notes playing,
chords of depression, lust and lies,
some of laughter, some of tears,
some of joy, some of peace.
I walk hoping I find the right word,
the right accent, the right tempo
and rhythm;

trying to find the space between
the world and me.

When I'm about to give up, and things don't make
sense,
before all things seems lost,
the voice
of peace
breathes upon the falling notes.

And as I hear His voice, the voice of praise,
the voice of joy, my broken hands
gets stronger.

As beautiful and as
broken this life can be, as harmonious and
awestruck as the song of my heart plays,
He plays the right notes for me.

This is my 12 the poem! This is one of my dearest poems. Enjoy

#love #peace #hope #joy #brokenness

Samuel Fox Jun 2015

The Broken Sonnet

https://youtu.be/73TOA_qdd0M?t=26s

Spoken Word piece performed at The Odditorium in Asheville, NC in 2014.

#hell #sonnet #heaven #brokenness #spokenword #lovepoem #stillloveyou

Bb Maria Klara Jun 2015

Not Enough

It is a curse, to feel so ******.
When love’s salvation is a fail planned;
When even at best, all is not enough,
there is no way to still be though.
When your strength attacks your weak-
ness and fear the hurt so refuse to speak,
wrap it in riddles and locks and questions,
bundle the worry in subtle depressions,
Carry it lightly, as though it a babe,
break not the fragile, make it be save.
And pray really hard it repairs itself,
so whole and displayed on a shelf.

A shattered pride, I do not mind,
I just now hope that I do find,
the courage to pick up the shattered pieces,
by emotional maladies, sentimental diseases.
How do I begin to try and heal,
after being struck at Achilles’ heel?
It’s what I can’t admit, feeling so pierced,
by one I had hoped to have me blissed.
A careful thing, to hide the hurt,
hide bleeding scars beneath a skirt.
all so quickly, down it falls.
my heart feels vacant, hollow halls.

but shallow, but true,
holding unreasoned rue.
emotional sighs, and the best of my lies.
to disguise and hide my bitterly cries.
a pathetic thing, to fear and self hate
the failure to entirely captivate.
The desire to be the center of the world,
too much for a pretty but stupid girl.
Perhaps it’s what makes me not at all enough.
possessiveness over the worsest of stuff.
but as I tell anyone, I don’t know if I care.
because trying is all that I could even dare.

#feelings #depression #sadness #failure #rhymes #brokenness #feels

Erin Smith Jun 2015

My broken Pangaea

You were my beautiful urgency
Your lips promised the world onto the fragmented map
left in me
A beautiful Pangaea sealed together
The world stopped for us- the naive mapmakers
While everything else spun into beautiful chaos
The madness of the tectonic mountains
stop for none
Not even the innocent promises forged across the continents
They laughed as their rifts
battered our beating hearts,
Until their was nothing left but a single pulse

Memories flood me, brutally constant, like the tides angered at the shore

When your laughter stretched across the ocean
But somehow only seemed to reach me
Pulse
When we picked out the life our children would have,
Like it was some neat and concise future picked from a catalog
Pulse
When our world went up in smoke, it had never been
clearer
Pulse
When our hearts started beating for someone else
Someone else besides for you and me
Pulse
When you walked away
Pulse
And I realized it was too late
Pulse
When I knew in that moment your brokenness would forever
Cut sharply at my heart, etching those four words left unsaid
Until I was as broken as your ghost
Pulse
When
Pulse
I
Pulse
Realized
Pulse
You
Pulse
Were
Pulse
My
Pulse
Everything
Pulse
And I was just your side thing.

Pulse

What can be said about your beautiful urgency when your time has run out?

A eulogy for our love

#love #poem #brokenness