Hearts don't break
It's just another thing the poets say
They are not made
Or any material that could
Crack into pieces
Hearts don't break
They just stop working
An old watch from another time and no parts to fix it
DISCLAIMER: This poem is not owned nor written by me. Credits to Nicola Yoon, who actually wrote the poem in her book 'The Sun is Also a Star'
what if all this studying
is for nothing?
what if i cant do it
i crack in the real thing
i just fall apart
how will i know?
i doubt everything
every little move
every little decision
what if it is not enough?
college is rough and im struggling
It's time he gets his well-merited fame;
Hard-drivin' Hunter, captured by his game.
Slowing chipping at my shell
I watch it start to break away
Some days it doesn't seem to crack
But I still make progress anyway
Inside this loved but shackle of a shell
I've been the same me
Living by my limits and inhibitions
But I finally feel like breaking free
Unsure of who I am to become
Like a mystery without a clue
There's beauty in ultimately finding one
The discovery of something new
The pieces fall off when their ready
Those tiny slivers that once kept me safe
Breaking through your own shell
Is about growing and finding your place
seeing the fire in your eyes
Is as hypnotic
As watching lightning crack
Across the sky.
And the power of your smile
Could bring disco back in style.
The way you move your feet? Oof!
Girl, there's no way
I can stay in my seat.
So what's the problem?
You make me feel this way
And I don't even know your name
People don't know when the crack in the ground starts.
They only know when it breaks and they fall.
life has its tricks,
sometimes, it’ll hit you with bricks,
but even if I crack, I’m still me.
Just because I’m broken,
doesn’t mean there’s anything to fix.
I just need some help to find myself. Not to create someone else.
I creak in this cold.
Calm, china-doll-like purple hands
To my zipper,
Of my teeth reminding me
Of my callow views
My doll-like skew
— if I shattered, it would be in chunks
And I could glue myself back together
Full of cracks.
The crack of the neck
the pop of the knee.
These sounds are parts of the symphony of me.
My voice cracks.
Another tear shapes.
My heart breaks.