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annh Sep 2019
Lend me your biography; your innermost-ness,
Your secret shame; your hidden struggles,
And I shall gift you words.

A language woven with silk,
Borrowed from my own unravellings,
Frayed edges, now mended.

Let me help you thread the needle,
So that you may quilt your scattered pieces together,
And, in time, find yourself whole again.

‘Words are singularly the most powerful force available to humanity. We can choose to use this force constructively with words of encouragement, or destructively using words of despair. Words have energy and power with the ability to help, to heal, to hinder, to hurt, to harm, to humiliate and to humble.’
- Yehuda Berg
Danielle Mar 2018
Frayed to the touch
Your little electric shocks,
Wind me up
And spin me round.
Dizzy on nothing
I stumble to the floor
Falling deeper down.
This emotional twister
Sweeps me off
And dumps me right-side up.
Without a brain, and
My fancies out of control,
Well, my darling,
I’m afraid I’ve lost and
I’m fraying right before your eyes
PrttyBrd Jan 2018
the holes run together to make nothing
                                                          that consumes everything

torn to bits with nothing left to rebuild
                            pulling threads from passersby
                                                      gluing them in spit and sparkles

      forming the fabric of a frayed future
hidden behind that toothy grin that blinds the best of 'em

                              a bit of accidental charm and sparkles turn gems
  catching the moon you just hung

besotted sot
    truth like poison thick on spirited tongue

                                    can't believe what the bottles tout
can't  trust liquid truth in ashen breath

dragons of legend breathe Fireball lies
                      that smell of candy and taste like the death
                      of tomorrow's enamoration
Tehreem Sep 2016
An external explosion concluded it
She woke up from stagnant sleep
Light pierced her eyes and wounds
Squirming cringing she crawled out
The new day awaiting her existence
Poured her the drink of life
Then she grew straight and strong
Walking on her two frayed feet
Everything was clean blue bright
His blackness stayed in her heart
Buring is the ramification of your searing darkness.
Tehreem Aug 2016
He laid the weight on her
Words heavier than hell
She carried them all
On her head in her heart
For once she truly lived
Only where she belonged
In his frayed arms
In his gray mind
Madison Y Sep 2015
Do you remember my wool sweater:
How the fibers used to catch on your wristwatch
And tangle themselves in the buttons on your checkered shirt?
Those loose threads said what I was too afraid to—
Don't let go;
Stay just a little longer.
Fiber after fiber, they unraveled,
Until that old wool sweater was tattered and frayed and scattered—
Softly curled strings on shirt edges and neckties,
A memory begging not to be forgotten.
Even after all this time,
I'd bet you still find specks of red on your pillowcases
Or on your jacket as you ride the bus to work.
I hope you do.
This out of tune piano,
knows just how I feel.
Each key I play,
cries in disharmony.

No difference in the keys,
than in my life today.
No difference in my mind,
than what I play.

Broken rhythms and fragmented thoughts,
are all I have left in this splintered heart.

Why can't I find myself?
Why can't I find a way?
Why can't I live my life
without feeling my life has frayed?

The ends are frayed.
Copyright Barry Pietrantonio
WistfulHope Jan 2015
I don't know how to cover the miles,
Hell, I don't even quite know how I feel,
But I know that tonight we're both alone.
I wish I could just hold your hand,
Hold you close and tell you, "I'm here."
Physically transcending the miles between
Seems impossible for you and me.
How do you hold broken bones together;
How do you dig one grave in two places?
We're buried under the rubble together,
But I can't grab on to you darling.
How can we keep each other from sinking?
We can't even sink with one another.
I just want to be able to kiss your cheek,
And show you I'm real and here for you,
But I don't know how to cover the miles...
Hell, I don't even quite know how I feel.
I just want us to stop having to be alone.
(As friends or otherwise.)
Poetic T Oct 2014
I have a heart made of
It is easily
Torn so be
For many
Have tried to burn it,
But still partly whole
Others just thought
It would be appropriate,
To first brake it
Then rip it apart,
My heart is made of tissue paper
And many tears has it dried within my heart
Not bad for a 15minute work break
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