Weary, so weary. ..
Exhausted I'm spent.
I'm broke down,
I'm damaged,
Ive got nothing left.

Weakness taken hold,
Strength nonexistent.
Dazed and confused,
I just need a minute!

To catch my breath!
To find my sight!
Before I lose my balance!
Just hold on!
One more step!
Where's the map?
I'm lost!
I've had it!

With bones of glass,
With paper skin,
With hands that won't quit shaking.
I can't hold on,
Alone again,
I'm cracked, I'm suffocating.

My mind frazzled,
My heart defeated.
My courage lost at sea.
Dragging my baggage,
I stand at the edge,
I cannot even see!

I scream straight from my soul.
Holler out with no control.
Fatigued, defenseless, collapsed,
Silent tears soak my knees.
I sob, I weep, I cry out loud,
Why me,
Can't breath,
Knocked to the ground.

Yet no one will know,
Or don't seem to care.
How fragile they've made me,
Each taking their share.
I beg, I plea, I gag on spite,
I hear them laugh in great delight.

They light me up,
They burn me down.
They dance on top,
They spin around.
They drag me under,
They watch me suffer,
They walk away,
They grin and chuckle.

Gasping for life,
Pull myself from the rubble,
A shadow of ashes,
An outline in dust,
Flames lit in my soul,
Give strength from within.
A Phoenix I rise,
No choice,
I must.

Glass is  Sharpest when Broken™  By Nadia DeLevea
Cacherosi May 17

She's like a heroine
The moment you think you're out
She'll be pulling you back in

I wish she understood my silence, the source of my awkwardness, as I entered the unknown.

Doing what must be done, even though the nerves are shot
pretending it was painless, despite all knowing, it was not

Heroes come and heroes go, none a simple type of quest
fighting up and beyond, bound too, an honorable request

Whatever holds the mind to need, following the line to end
adhering stricture, the innocent and weak, too protect and defend

Without this glue, where would we be, it holds the true and brave
binding to the heart and soul, and far, beyond the grave

Deeds speak louder than words, but words, define, the deed...
.
Baylee Jan 25

Confined to the four walls of my room,
Lost without you,
Locked away in my self made tomb.
Crying into my pillow
Til its tear stained on both sides,
Knowing that that was our last goodbye.
I miss you.
There is nothing left to do but
Reminisce you,
And I intend to.
You were my heroin.
And when I was down,
You were my heroine.
But now that well is dry,
So I drown my sorrows in booze
And all I do is cry.
I don't know why you left me,
But it makes sense;
I'm depressing, you see.
But it's okay because
I have a lot of time alone,
To think of where I first went wrong.
But you're all I seem to want,
You're all I ever think of,
And your presence haunts my thoughts.

Temporal Fugue Sep 2016

Batman in his belfry
Robin at the all you can eat buffet
Batgirl in my bedroom
things going, all my way

Riddler plying his prose
Gordon on patrol
Catwoman in my trousers
happily, loosing all control

Joker playing the saboteur
Penguin relaxing at the shore
Harley-quinn in my shower
as golly gee and will-a-curs
I can't ask for nothing more

Erin Suurkoivu Sep 2016

You are beautiful and I am not.
We are the habits of our forefathers.

We can choose to forget them, let them
Drain away like sand through glass,

Distant dust of history. As much as we try
To remember, desire is stronger than memory.

Sometimes I turn to sculpt soft clay,
Loose and stark in my hands.

And then I abandon the mess. I should keep
My fingertips stained red for effort.

I remember dreaming a vision:
Heroine of my own story,

Walking the grey beach in winter,
Projected far into the future when I might realize it.

Clay does not sculpt itself.
Prayers go unanswered. Here

I dwell in my own lit house,
Multiple yellow lights

Floating in the dark, mirror for
The starry night that I might see.  

We’re the only species with
Wings on our feet. We’ve molded

Paper into something precious.
Currency of kings. Gold origami.

Honeyed words remain my nectar.
Rome is a daylong process that is for ever.

To shape is a practice
Known by time and being,

That I may become a living embodiment.
That I might find grace in a raised arm, a bent leg.

That I might see myself through a filter of love.
That I might remember there are no

Comparisons.
That we are beautiful for our very selves.

From my poetry collection, Camera Obscura, available at Lulu.com and Amazon.
Madison Jun 2016

you're my hero, i need you.

you are my hero, and you are my heroine
Shaine Fraz Jun 2016

Crime and other violent thoughts are at a low,
What exactly happen the evening of December

I was brushed upon,
I was sought after,
There were muggers and muggles,
And I saw my life flash

Déjà vu but still a feeling foreign,
Those eyes were distant
Weapons-- uncommon
I've seen those eyes before,

They are eyes I've longed for
My protector, those are eyes of my Prophet
My savior
guardian and princess of the Serengeti

Cling to uncertainty and name you Visual

© 2016 by S Fraz All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of S Fraz
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