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Ray Dunn Aug 10
my mosaic
is shattered
my stain glass
in tatters
sometimes i hum tunes and sing words along with them and this cake into my head and yeah that’s basically it. it has no meaning in my life rn ****
B D Caissie Aug 7
You manipulated me like clay into the finest of hearts.
Then smashed it to pieces into the most priceless of arts.
"How can no one see?" he said softly, almost as a whisper that made her brow rise in confusion. But there was a strange slight relief around the curviness of her lips and in those dark deep blue eyes that seemed to have lit up turning a shade lighter. She exhaled a sigh of relief as though she was glad someone was asking or even talking to her.
"How can no one hear the air carrying the whispers of your cries? How can no one see the merge between the depthful ocean and the mysterious galaxy in your eyes? Does no one feel the sadness leaking out of your pores? The way your smile is never complete, how your cheeks does not swallow your eyes no more. Does no one see your face and say You're a beautiful masterpiece made of all these broken pieces and I want to know more."
A masterpiece of intricate mosaic,
a beauty underlied with chaos.
She lets them see,
what she wants them to see.
Chris Saitta Jun 12
The immortal is the time before the rain
When we have thoughts of it afterward.  
By then, the mosaic of tongue and its words
Are broken stones swept away
By the shuttling broom of storm.
For a slide video of this and other poems, please check out my Instagram page at chrissaitta or my Tumblr page at Chris-Saitta.
Salsa Jun 4
The hazy hours, the break of dawn.
The candlelight kindling your living room.
The ardour of your fingertips, brushing my palm.
The question you asked me, hanging in doom.

"There's something I need to clarify, contest this but don't ask why.
Could you list five things you like about yourself?
The light is green, give it a try."

The shadows of lashes painting my skin.
My downcast eyes saturate to the brim.
The blocks in my head, the lump in my throat,
Why haven't I an answer to this simple poll?

Stuffed with self-loathing?
Weighted with doubt?
Could that be the root of my soft-pedal mouth?
I made a bid,
I lifted a finger,
The answer never came, the longer I lingered.

"Your silence has met my expectations.
I can't ask you for your love if you can't give it to yourself.
I can't pick up the tessera to put back on the shelf.
The mosaic is your own, here's the polish and a crown,
I'll stand by and watch, to fault my preconceptions.
I'll stand by and wait, in anticipation."
A typical "I can't love you if you don't love yourself" scenario.
Don't fall for it, it's *******. Everyone deserves to be loved.
She was like a broken mirror
Anything beautiful, she would reflect
A reflection abnormally distorted
Her perspective could not connect
She could not see the sparkle
Of the sunset sprinkled on the waves
She couldn't share the happiness of others
Because her feelings weren't quite the same
People's smiles were always crooked
Compliments were always misheard
Acts of kindness were disappointments
Expressions of love were just words
She was tired of being broken
Constantly blinded to beauty
She gave up holding her pieces together
Loosening her grip more than slightly
Her broken pieces then fell apart
Into a pile of shattered looking glass
She laid there with her hollow frame
As she could finally rest at last
Her self destruction symbolized
Her innermost desire for rebirth
Her lack of knowing what was beauty
Did not take away her worth
She realize her vision's distortion
Only showcased her perception
Her definition of beauty
Was different beyond interpretation
She arranged her shattered pieces
In a way her beauty befits
On the ground where she laid
Was a beautiful mosaic
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