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Yesterday I found my heart teetering
on the tops of your fingertips.
I was attempting to walk across a tight rope
from my chest to yours without falling.
Ev'ry word you spoke was a gust of wind
pulling me closer to falling and I spoke
my own words to stabilize my legs.
But I knew the tragedy of one slip,
If I said something too strongly or
or I didn't listen well enough,
stumbling off the rope was inevitable;
whether I hit an unknown bottom
or kept falling down the rabbit hole
the result would be the same.
My heart, broken on impact,
the force of gravity tenfold
because the value of my love for you
is everything times ten to the tenth power.
I cannot really fathom a shattered heart right now,
but I'd imagine its something like--
Humpty Dumpty on steroids falling
from the moon instead because someone
accidentally mixed up the two children stories.
Humpty Dumpty jumped over the moon
and shattered every piece of himself on the way down.
For the kings men would never find him again
And I would never be able
to put the pieces back together.
...Hey, ******, ******...Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
B D Caissie Sep 2019
A river of moments pulses through our veins.
Held down solely with anchors and chains.

Life keeps rolling forward, drifting by and by.
As time carries on we continue to try.

Water rises and quickens with inexorable rains.
Rapids bring wisdom our souls collect and attain.

With it faith to drop anchor open our wings and fly.
Steering with heartstrings in the firmament skies.


©
Anastasia Jun 2019
her soul was the flavor of anarchy
and he knew he wanted a taste
silver roses and bloodred flame
to win her heart was a lovely game
he kissed her in the rain
and she touched him without shame
he wanted her heart
but only got pain
she played around
with the strings of his heart
but she sometimes feared
she would tear them apart
a flicker
or flame
a bite
and a taste
of her
anarchy
soul.
i've had the words "anarchy soul" in my head for a while, so i decided to make a poem. have a lovely day <3
Samreena Lodhi Jan 2019
In the slumber
he walked
tugged
at the heartstrings
with joyance
but
another day
Dreaming
Rosely Medina Dec 2018
This, my darling, is what you call divine -
my good for nothing, wondrous soul. Take but a step inside - let the beauty bedazzle you. Find yourself in outer space and let the shooting stars of my heartstrings guide you home.
ollie Nov 2018
I have a buddy who smiles like high noon
It’s around the time before the moon really takes place in the sky
His smile bleeds your heart dry as if he were a homeless man begging for your cash on a street corner
It takes 8 minutes and 20 seconds for the sun to reach the earth
To remember how to give me warmth
But when it’s winter I’m wearing a beanie for a reason
My head is cold
He can extend his arms
And pull me into a hug
Because being wrapped in his arms is warm enough during December months
And when I say his smile is like high noon I mean it like his tongue sticks through his teeth and clouds are covering the sky
I firmly believe that I would be fully blind and not partially if his tongue did not shield me from part of his teeth
His smile makes the sun envious
His innocence cries over drinking orange juice
My buddy is like high noon
There is a fire inside me that wants to tell you why I insist he is not the breathtaking beauty of a sunset
And the truth is
There is too much softness in a sunset
For a boy who wants to fight
And was told by his country that he couldn’t
You don’t see the heartbreak of a 13 at the time year old boy on the news
You just see the announcement
It tastes bittersweet
How he’s the alienated student in these hallways
How many times have you had to sit back while your identity was being debated like you weren’t in the room
I did this morning
And I know he does every day
I used to see scars on the back of this kid’s legs before people were wise enough to treat him
More like a person
And less like a headline
And less like something new in this day and age
I write about him because more often than sometimes, I’m too scared to write about myself
Don’t let me see what I am
I know we’re both thinking it
I am too young to be on a stage
I don’t know where to go to perform this ****
There are no rules in slam poetry
And if I’m going to slam my heart out I better do it the right way
I am that right note to pull on your heartstrings until you bleed from the way I’m playing them
I don’t write poetry like a teenage girl but I like poetry like a feeling
Like a burst of energy
I write poetry like your parents want to have me over for dinner to see if I speak in sonnets regularly
If a rose by any other name would smell twice as sweet why can’t he change his
Why can’t I change mine
If a boy by any other name may respond twice as quickly then why are we not allowed to change them
Why are we the topic of your family’s thanksgiving dinner discussion and why are we the coffee shop poets
Why are we the impossibility of a high school wall
Why am I not ten feet tall when I perform this
Why is it ironic that I’m a poet who can’t snap
I don’t like coffee
I can’t play the piano
But I’ll pull your heartstrings like keys
Pity the plain boy in his glasses
Because that’s who I am
Destined to be a plain boy
And if I have to tie your heartstrings together to end this poem, don’t think I won’t
Sometimes I feel hollow and empty
The beating sensation of my heart
Is but a rattling noise in my chest
Nothing to keep it still
Nothing to keep it in place
Strings of the heart
Torn and severed
Tangled within its own
My heart lies in a pile
Of strings untied
A page filled with nonsense
in a book of standard things,
How's one to get lost in a jungle
lush and teeming with all these
mind boggles and heartstrings?

You're in for a surprise, splendor
Forget-me-nots by the ardent river,
Babbling, waiting, plucked to give
Placed on a grave of your spring,
Winter is coming, as fall retiring,
Set in for your rude awakening -

You're meant to outgrow within
The child dies, but the man refuses
To go out and start - he fears to begin.
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