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Mrs Timetable May 12
I think I see you everywhere
But I can't find you
It hurts when I'm not near you
When you are gone
When Im gone
I feel something
This void I need filled
Where are you?
No matter when or where
The one place
I know you are
My safest location...
Pulling at my heartstrings
That missing you feeling
Andreya Celeste Sep 2021
pulling on my heartstrings
grip is so tight
a broken little thing
knuckles turning white
a taunting smile waits
its tug is so strong
it is the bait,
the siren's careful song
my heart takes flight
the harsh alarm sings
nothing feels right
my twisted heartstrings
Simon Mar 2021
They once said that "a piece of cake, is a slice at the beginning your life"...
But is that even true...at the very most end of the spectrum, from which your heart beckons too the very mind that surpluses the very objects (from which is can't find itself in the mess of truthful results), that begin to truly shame the result of even trying to piece things together, time after time...?
NO!
Which are exactly why things don't need to be remembered from right off the bat.
That's because a piece of cake is the truthfully defining reach from which we can't solve the very most bottom remedy from straight out from under our very heartstrings. Heartstrings in the very form of how our very life began. When you were too busy fighting objections too win over your very mind's eye (at the very center of opportunity itself)!
Basically, the very end results, begin with a single fraction of those very "to-do" list heartstrings...that don't truly account for the most interesting of logical finds. Simply put, it literally calls forth (the very claim of one's own arrival) at the very hands of remembering what it was truly like too live again!
Except, when you tasted the very cake that belonged deep in your own heart.
And a heart that is truly beginning anew, again. But with a twist, you see....
Nothing is really the same, after from which you taste this newly found piece of cake, that slices off one end of its own self...and disregards the rest, after the final aftertaste had reclaimed it's own glory.
This is mostly because you think you feel what the mind's eye REJECTS the claim like a chronic storm of results for the such displeasurable spectrum.
Now you know when you slice a piece of cake at the very end of one's own life, and take that slice at the very beginning newly found account...for it is a truly newer start at the very beginning of something entirely new.
A such tasty treat for a definite psychological and philosophical and emotional hunting trip full of joy!
Payton Feb 2021
I used to think that
there were these little bones in my heart, and
when they got broken, the doctors would put
a bright pink cast on my heart.

But it doesn't work like that.

You can't put a cast on your heart, and even if you could,
there isn't a cast big enough to hold every single piece
my heart has broken into.
There isn't a glue strong enough to put it back
together, and keep you from breaking
it, yet again.

I had an elderly lady look on me and say "one day you're going to be a little heart-breaker to a bunch of boys."
And I'm sure I was before now.

So next time you adorn yourself with such a label as,
"Heart-breaker," perhaps you should imagine
what it would be like when someone breaks your heart.

The most exquisite truth of all is this:
I may be broken.
I am not
d e s t r o y e d.
This poem was written in 2016.
Jay M Apr 2019
This day
Torturing me so
Never letting me go.

Not long ago
Out worlds collided
Someway, somehow,
Trying so hard to catch the drift.

Barely speaking
Playing your emotions
A beauty, enticing me,
Framed with something unseen.

I do not wish to be afraid
Yet I do fear
For I hope to hear
Those sweet words
From your lips.

Day after day
You see me
But talk so little..

Am I the reason,
Or am I simply
Getting it all wrong?

So gentle
That soul of yours
Trying to hold yourself together
But just know
Even if your eyes don't see this truth
That I would rush to your aid
And hold you.

What is it
In your head
That just makes you so fascinating?
The way you mumble
The way you fumble
Strumming the minutes away
Like they are all you have.

I did not mean to feel this
No
But here I am
Falling for you
More and more each minute.

Worlds apart
Yet only a foot away
Daring me to come closer...

Daring me to ask the question...

- Jay M
April 10th, 2019
Elizabeth Fruin Jul 2020
Understanding the stars to your galaxies
Made of past and future complexities
Is the path we took made of possibility
Which ended in us walking separately

Though we're broken and bruised feeling further apart
With moments that'll never silence my heart
I still look for you in the ocean of people
But I know it's your stars that'll only show

Though I won't forget the tune you played
When you tugged at my heartstrings
You brought the music back with memories we made
When you tugged at my heartstrings

Seeing shimmers of blue starting back at you
A reflection I will never unsee
With feilds of gold glowing in the dark
I hope they'll remind you of me

Building moments created by the smallest of things
Betthia Mae Feb 2020
words replayed
(re)minded me of pain.
I’m just a game to be played.
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.


©
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