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What a match, oh what a pair,
my broken china doll and I.
Abandoned in dark corners, where no-one ever sees.
Cracks and broken pieces lay scattered on the floor
of a once cherished child and a once treasured toy.
Now you may never see it, but we weep, both her and I
for discarded things have feelings
if not always naked to the eye.
My broken china doll and me
don't understand what we have done.
For objects once dressed up in pretty things
became fragmented, tortured lumps.
It's not always understood,
why we throw away all broken things,
because sometimes they're most beautiful
if we only ever were to look within.
Now we may be broken and discarded,
never to be repaired again
but with a little helping hand, we could learn to grow.
For through our cracks the sunlight could seep,
making us feel whole again.
But my broken china doll and I
maybe too far gone to ever be saved.
eleanor prince Dec 2019
In solitary spaces
I find parts noise hid
screaming simulacrum
in broken cobwebs

a life pending
in crevices
sensing
chill

broken
concepts
mantles for
ruptured elements
their soft core exposed

casualties of bloodied past
salvaged fragments
society's furnace
discarded

singing
synths
waiting
Tatiana Sep 2019
Though time is rather fleeting
I don't know why I'm sleeping
the days away.
And can you see the sunrise
above the horizon?
I find myself swaying.
Away with the breeze.
Flowing with the leaves.
I find myself traveling across the sea
just a discarded leaf
with no destiny.
©Tatiana

It has been a hot minute since I posted here. I've had a rough September so far. I suffered an allergic reaction to some food and I have never had food allergies before. That put me out of it for a little bit. I'm also just struggling with my mental health again. I'm trying to do my job, keep up with everyday tasks but I feel it all slipping away from me.
Umi Jul 2019
= )
A gloomy soul for an unnamed vessel,
A decaying mind with the will to wrestle fate,
Aimlessly walking beyond the scene,
Forgotten or discarded by anyone they've seen,
Just the painful memories, coming from the treacheries,
A sip of hot chokolate makes them think,
Why am I to enjoy this drink,
It doesn't matter, it will never be,
With such determination they must flee,
To a happy place without even dreams,
To an unknown darkness and where it streams,
Not giving up, their will becomes stronger,
Not even accepting this any longer,
Yet, one cannot chose who they are in this world,
Burning my tongue I softly smile,
It's a beautiful day outside.

~ Umi
Stark May 2019
FLASH

"the exposure looks kinda funny"
"maybe just adjust the aperture a bit"
"add in the lighting"
"is the white balance set?"

the chair squeaks as it moves to the left
the weight shifts the couch in their direction
heat radiates from the family
whose fake smiles are nearly as blinding as the flash from the camera
despite the tripod, the camera sits off kilter
like the uneasy tension in the room
it feels hot--no, sweltering
unsettled emotions sit like
discarded mail
away and out of sight

CLICK

"Okay, we're good"

and the family heads off in their separate ways
with no goodbyes for the others
inspired by dean's dayfly
.
.
.
2/4
Nomkhumbulwa Dec 2018
They never spoke again,
I have waited a year and a half,
I have reached out time and again,
But there comes a time when enough is enough.

I cannot force them back into my life,
Cannot force them to utter just one more word,
I will always love them just the same,
But their silence causes so much pain.

It feels like a whole population died,
Been wiped clean off the Earth;
And knowing in reality so many think I lied,
Just makes me want to run away and hide.

I cannot do anymore than I have,
I have forgiven them for how they treated me,
I completely understand the culture, though its sad,
I cannot go back and change what happened to me.

I miss them dearly,
I think about them every day,
I think about the pain I caused them,
Now in my history they will forever stay.

I long to have contact with cousins,
Aunties, Uncles, and friends,
But I know this will never happen,
And I will likely never see them again.

Its all so mixed up in my mind,
The events that caused me to be singled out,
If id had the choice, I would have gone to court,
Because then I would have less doubts.

I am disturbed by memories,
And also by the suicidal hanging,
And knowing that my people,
See me at fault for everything.

It makes me feel ***** and ashamed,
That I, and the other women are still blamed,
And for what is it that we have done?
To be born as "women" is all we have done.

Kevin, Maisie, Clare, Anna,
Eileen, Rita, Peter, Barbara,
Candice, Kerry, Alex, Teeny,
Susan, Wendy, Dennis, and Jelly...

Those names are so very few
Of the huge number of relatives I have,
I still remember the day at the refuge,
When you turned me away - even that made me so sad.

If it were not for South African women,
Running the refuge out of sight out of mind,
Then there would be nowhere for Island women,
Nowhere to turn, yet these women were so kind.

But I know the rest of you still look down on me,
As you no doubt look down on many others,
And what did we do to deserve this?
To be born as women; in that you are so disgusted.

Disgusted with me for questioning abuse,
For speaking out for the others,
Disgusted that I have broken the "silence",
For women are not to be "free", I have discovered.

For if women are to be "free" - then they must be alone,
Discarded by all and everyone,
For "causing you pain",
For "shaming the Island's name".

I still love you -
And always will,
You hold a special place in my heart,
That no one else can fill.

.....I was born a woman - entering this World having already committed the crime....and for that I am sorry.
Random middle of the night piece.
Poetic T Nov 2018
Blended with the womb of obscurity,
              barbed voices silently whisper
behind hairs crawling slowly upwards.

Never realising that the contour of your
           silhouette wasn't yours after your
                        corner step, wavering slightly.

It now lays limp, discarded like soiled rags.
                  That which beckons beneath you,
            staring focused on your every breath.

And with but a fluttering of exhalation a light
                         stutters and you fall into a pool
                                           of hollow nothingness.

A stain outlines your last breath,
                    you where already drowning.
                   Not realising you where already dead.
SomeOneElse Oct 2018
Why am i always losing friends
When will this cycle ever end
Abandoned by most of my friends
Feeling undesired yet again
Written after being bandomed and diacarded by another friend
just like popcorn -

those soft, incredible clouds
appearing from what
once was

solid,
golden,
rock -

my thoughts are formed.

out of nowhere,
another pops into my mind,
joining it's fellow corns,

only to later

be consumed,
rearranged,
and discarded

by people who

aren't
even
me.


- v.m
i was eating popcorn, then this happened.
I'm not allowed to keep doing this,
Pretending that you still exist with me,
You left me and I should be over it,
I know it's all my fault,
Except I just can't let go of all the time we spent,
Laughing and being best friends.
I still imagine that we're okay,
That we're still mates and you didn't go away.

When I think of the future,
I still fantasise that you might be in it,
When in reality you don't even care,
I doubt I own a second of your subconscious thoughts.
The only thing I ever get:
Is myself in the dark.

If you share your shadows,
You should expect those people,
To go away.
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