I buried
my roots
in new-age
spirituality.

It nourished me
with words
like water,
soil
sunshine

and promised
a harvest.

They say
the hand
that points
to the moon,
is not
the moon

and I was thirsty.

My entitlement
told me
I should not
be humbled
by a glass
of water
when what
I desire
is a
spring.

Well the spring
never came
and my
cup became
just another
empty glass.

Now I've
stepped off
my hedonic
treadmill.

My frail
body was
not designed
to withstand
the aches
of running.

I'm a
tall woman,
albeit small.

I was built
to see
the little things
from great heights.

And so it became
my glass of water
turned to wine.

We are lying together
And I wonder whether it is a dream
The last time I closed my eyes
Was when you lay your head in my lap
And looked up
And stole my wine
Which I drank for you
Or maybe for me, for you
Waiting
You wouldn't come—why would you?
And then there you were
And then there I was
Eyes closed
The sun rising, unseen, blocks away
Tired and unsubtle
You let me in when you (we) guess you (we) shouldn't
After walking eggshells and breathing the morning
An end lay waiting under your blankets
Surrounded by glass
Lept over as you take off your dress
And then nothing happens
And then something happens
And then nothing happens
And then you say what you say
A line crossed with each of this poem
Don't fall too much in love with you
Why would I?
Do you think I could feel anything?
As
I feel
The end shifting beside us
We close our eyes again
We're here
I worry that if I move my arm
I'll make you realize how mistaken you are
And when later
You realize how mistaken you are
I hear glass crunching
So we sit in the sun
Beside the window
I should go
I should go
One more for the road
I should go
Then
When I wash my face in the sink
The last taste of you runs from my lips to my tongue
I spit
I go

March 2017
Ocean Eyes Apr 13

Somewhere in the world a young girl sits with her headphones in and music blaring strikingly loud Listen delicately and you’ll hear the pain in the words from a writer who is proud to share their work to an entire crowd
A writer who’s
Words are  so well spoken...
They give you the blues
She feels so broken
from glass which has shattered
And left her with  cuts and bruises
Everyone she loves she loses
So much so that all she can do is
Sit there and do what she always does
she abuses herself
Now a boy comes by with a bright smile
and a brand new toon and he says
The words she’s always needed to hear
He says it without any sort of fear
Because he has no fear
He says it so clear
It brings a tear to his own eye
Hello there, my dear,
what’r ya listen’ to?
Come on, don't be shy
The girl looks up with her shattered eyes
and broken heart and says what she has trained herself to,
“Nothing new”.
He takes off his hood
And he spoke as he stood
Just as any strong person would
Nothing that’s good
Nothing that will help you in the way everything should.
Let me save you
I could help you get through
The pain that you’re going through
Let me help you see the world in a new hue
Do you know who
Who what?
Who you are.
Strive to be the best version of you
Try to be entirely true
true to..?
True to yourself
Make is so they rue the day they ever tried to
Stop you or hurt you
but, that's what they do… what's the point?
Because darling that's how you do it
You show them the day where
despite all the broken glass
and sass
you flew
Don't do this
it won't help you through
Fight like the warrior I know you can be
Be free
despite the cuts on your face
and the glass stuck to your knee
Free like the waves at sea
Free like the wind that creates those waves
And flies for miles and brings new smiles
and entwines itself perfectly into the branches of the old oak tree
the same wind that helps the leaves fall from that tree
helps the leaves be free
and the tree is lifted from its year-long burden
like wind, help liberate everyone and every thing
and be what they're supposed to be
the wind that blows unrelentingly
and apologetically
with continuous glee
Show them that you are the key
Because we’re all the key
to someone's locked door
Because everyone keeps something hidden
Inside their house or their room or a glass box
Everyone has something that they lock away
And houses have windows
People like to break windows
Like they break your spirit
Don't let them
some might throw rocks in at the windows
To create more shattered glass and sad eyes
because windows are the houses eyes
Some might sneak their way in
when you forget to close the window you left open
Because you wanted to feel the wind on your skin
but they aren't welcomed so break-ins don't count
be the person who stops those break ins
remember, you are a house and though your windows may be broken
You’re still standing strong
Your bones are keeping you upright
And your foundation--your faith-- it remains
and take in all of your own glory
because darling you are glorious
honestly miss,
its ludicrous
how gorgeous you are
and how you don't see it
how don't you see it?
It's really a pity
that you're so pretty
especially with those shattered eyes
eyes that have seen so many lies
eyes that just want to hide
please don't hide from me.
you don't see that you're
New York City
you never sleep
there's never a moment where you don't make a peep
some think you're a bit of a creep (you're not)
but in the end you make everyone feel welcomed
But you yourself don't feel welcomed
Why don't you feel welcomed
Who told you that your body was a toy or a tool
They were a fool
No, they weren't cool
darling, show them you rule
You wish your body was clay
That way you could shape yourself into whatever they want to
You could do whatever they say
but darling I pray
That someday
you'll show everyone just how much
you slay
Slay, girl. You’re a fighter.
The girl smiles in a new, healed sort of way
in a way you can't help but to hope will always stay
kind of like how you hope the new puppy doesn't stray
although sometimes it does
on occasion, puppies run away
but, hey, that's okay
because you have to have the courage to run after it
and search it out
sometimes it's hard
but you can't pout
happiness is worth it
Never underestimate the power of positivity  
But also never underestimate the power of negativity
Both can consume you
If you let it
And never, don't you ever, underestimate the things you say
they count they matter and hey
often, they can save the day
Go save someone's day.

Beau Scorgie Apr 6

If I could do just one thing for the people I love,
I'd bottle myself up and place it on a shelf,
just high enough to be out of reach.

Then they could love me from behind glass
the way I was meant to be.

Eleanor Rigby Mar 29

From a distance behind glass doors
There he moves elegantly
Then disappears from my sight.

Suddenly at a time and a place
Quite in synch
He smiles at me
A shy smile like never before
Behind no glass door.

Then disappears from my sight
Again.


-- Eleanor

The Boy In the Red Shirt
Addy Rose Mar 27

You can Bottle your feelings all you want,
But one day the Bottle is going to shatter and you are going to be left with the shards

This has happened to me too many times.
Erin Suurkoivu Mar 26

what is sand
but the finest of glass?

and what are bones
but the finest of ash?

and you may try to crush
me down into the finest of elements,

reduce me to nothingness,
blow me to the wind.

but I have a talent
for rising again,

oh yes.
you cannot keep me down for long.

Delta Swingline Mar 20

Fact: My sister is a wonderful human being.


After hearing about the tragedies happening around us, she decides to make paper stars. Lots and lots of stars.

She asks for empty bottles from the neighbours and her friends. She fills the bottles with these stars, folding away all her problems into glass bottles and jars of all shapes and sizes. After she fills the bottles and jars she hands them to her friends and family.

She gives one to me.

The paper stars in a rainbow pattern, they seem so full of wonder. Even if they are nothing more than paper encased in glass.

I take the glass jar and place it on the top shelf of my school locker. Reminding me that I can keep a piece of home and happiness close to me.

But it didn't last.

After I made some mistakes I didn't feel as though I wanted any happiness near me. I wanted to take every bit of hope and hide it away.

I took the jar of paper stars out of my locker 2 days ago.

Holding it close to my chest as I walked down the halls of my school.

My head hanging.
Eyes glued to the floor.

Walking away from everything.

But still sort of hopeful...
Wishing for a bit more optimism.

A shining star.

My sister will always be one of my biggest inspirations.
Sean Scribbles Mar 15

I say this with a glass of humility
That I've built worlds up and down these streets
And surrounded myself with all manner of things
Which I've pulled from inside of myself and out
And spread around
Like butter on my creative roll
With only this glass to wash it down
I am hungry for the here and not
The creation which keeps me wide awake
When all others have fallen asleep in my town
Even this very expression was kept on a shelf
Hence why...
I generally keep such things to myself
For a glass of humility is better than milk
At settling my mind and stomach down

I generally keep such things to myself
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