The cold steel of my gun
Reassures my broken mind
Empowering me, filling me up
With a darkness that's entwined
With a pain that burns like the sun
The quiet boy you've ignored
That only sought acceptance
Isn't me anymore
So, prepare for penance
Because death is at your door.
I am done being the pawn
In this cruel game of yours
I wish I was gone
But my soul soars
For this will be the dawn
When all this pain wrapped in a bow
Will simply... Explode!
Thoughts? This is probably the darkest poem I ever wrote.
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 chucks
And I could glue myself back together
Full of cracks.
Her ebony hair fell down across shoulders like a thick storm curtain
Tied knots around fingers like drawstrings
And I have not ever seen such a beautiful display of heartache
In ebony locks a tragedy is written
A paragraph in each strand
And in hands she cradles pieces of what is left of her intertwined emotions
Her ebony heart cracked open wide
Empty of love
About no one in real life just a moment of inspiration I had while randomly reading an article with the word ebony in it. It's a beautiful word. An especially beautiful word considering it is a synonym for black.
The mirror we thought was our reflection,
now cracked and distorted.
For were we really looking deep enough,
or were we just hoping that what we saw
was a true reflection of love.
Not a fun house mirror of regret.
Not showing the true extent
of what we saw.
But a reflection of what we wanted.
Truth is never that kind...
For there are no words
That can describe you
You love so deep
And so pure
You make things so simple
Yet so beautifully complicated
Behind your shine is a world full of dark
Long nights of you crying
Longing for a purpose
But, even though your broken
The light still shines through the pain
From your beautiful soul
Sometimes the happiest and purest people are the most broken
Cracked China cup
At a chipped table
Stained cloth dressing
Do you still see
Tell me now
As broken candles
See broken things
And cracks hide
I see you
This crack’ed thing
And I see you
But not outdone
They try to
Because you’re the only
A cracked cup
That runneth over
Can still hold your
How you’ve grown
Setting a place that
I pray that
You are filled
When you can’t
But I’d gladly hold
like an old porcelain doll
i don't want to be dropped
pieces all over the floor.
on a shelf i sit
next to others sitting pretty
in dresses and makeup
looking like people they aren't.
i am quiet but honest
because i need protecting.
i know where i've been recently
i've been covered in dust
in a room with no one to hold me.
pushing myself off the shelf,
allowing the cracks to move
I have not a Chip
My heart tends to beat Skip
Bitten lower lip Quivers
Shaken bow Sharp Arrows
Archer Aimed Deadshot Insane
Sadness seams ripped to Smiles I Delivered
None the less soul shook to shiver
Sharpen up that attitude
For briefest of care for the endless brood
I do have some cracks
Spackle specked front to back
Sorrow shallowly sunk skin deep
Toddler to Teen to Twenty-nineteen
Tirelessly testing Me
Broken Little Pieces
Have indeed befallen Me
But Here is the Trick to Treat
My Broken Little Pieces
Like Stem Cells
Not to be rid of
Instead held aside
For a Better You
Lies within even the Broken View
So Cracked, Chipped, or Broken
These are the Ingenium Gems Unspoken
Pressure Pressed, Stress and all the Mess
We Push, Plead, FIGHT aloud
Broken Little Pieces
Mine Make Me Proud
I don’t think I see you anymore;
I don’t see anything besides the
Dangling red-stones and reckless curls,
Sun-kissed smile shivering for more
I cant comply to.
I don’t want to lose you to the life you can’t give up and I lose myself every other day to
You could end that?
And I can’t stop seeing your hidden sort of side—The one that glances at the person you wish I wore
And writes of all the sensuous aspects of the world.
See these fake words you assign me, I am not a crisp morning
Or beckoning sea breeze entangling you in lust and mystery—I’m frozen.
I don’t know what else to say now,
Standing in the un-lit streets of memories unwinding—holding close the heart I guess I broke—Staring at your shifting soul,
I wonder who I would have been without you
And who I will become once you are gone.
Love-Locked looks I hide inside,
Beside my permanently damaged sense of pride.
So instead of any other sad display
I’ll tell you
You look more beautiful every day.
I never apologized and maybe that’s what did it
I let go and fall, fall, fall — ever so deep —
Into the cracks between your pieces
They’re the only way to your heart.
Let me swim through the crevices
Like a diver in the mines.
Ive struck gold.