I once was just a broken heart
She put me together
Part by part

She once was just a broken heart
I put her together
Part by part
Short but thought through piece, hope you enjoy
i could stare at your very photogenic (albeit invisible) countenance all day, all week, the entire month, this remaining year, at least one additional decade, boot no more than a century21!

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Looking for a best friend, or...a wurst (liver) re: enemy.

brief bio Matthew Scott Harris doth briefly sketch
almost two win a half score years since me being:
Born January 13th, 1959

I shake my shaggy hirsute hair
in utter disbelief, when the cocked arrow
begat thine conception,
when meal ate mum and octogenarian papa

begat their second offspring and only son,
what now seems to be a stepped-up pace,
where father time doth affix another candle to blow
where the passage of life measured

in swiftly tailored decades
denoting another birthday,
when with the blink of an eye,
I vividly recall crow

wing like a Lil whippersnapper of a boy
leisurely playing monopoly
for make-believe dough...
nothing ranks as the greatest gift
since being a father twenty-one years ago
then bearing witness to grow
increasing autonomy

of my two precious daughters
whereby each will become master
of their domain, and meet a loving beau
(actually thy eldest dates
a delightful young man
from Puerto Re Coe),

whom intuition discerns would be
a near perfect match –
and this papa intuits dough
nuts to dollars – that such an
em man hint gentle, humble,

intelligent lad – doth hoe
pa fully become the future groom
of said firstborn, (which outcome I know
wing couched in a couple of poems

sent his way, and no doubt his smarts lo'
and behold revealed the slightly obscure wish),
where love doth most obviously abound mo'
then prevailed between myself and bride o'

mine these last deuce score
plus (21+) years, but now this Poe
whit aspires to recognize the worthiness of she,
whose chose thyself as a lifetime
groom cuz peaceful status quo

avoiding animosity –
as thyself and spouse gently row
our quiet quite rickety craft
which oft times in the past needed a tow
off the craggy shoals of constant woe.
Two puzzle pieces that like to connect
But they are very different and do not fit
A part is missing between them
And that part was love.
Nayana Nair Apr 2
There is a thought

that holds my hands

sometimes to save me from drowning,

sometimes to drag me down.

The thought that

all you say

and all I say

will be part of all the noise

that this world has already lost.

This world that had witnessed us together

will soon forget us.

And we won’t feel a thing a that time,

however we may dread that day right now.
Midnight Apr 1
He laughed
With a half bummed cig
Pressed too close
To his swollen lips

He said
You'd better run
And he took another drag

He said
I'm no good
And he took a shot of heroin

He said
I warned you
And he took a shot at my heart

I laughed
Full of innocence
I thought
I could fool a tiger

He said
I think I'm done
And he walked away

He said
(This time his voice
Estranged in my mind)

I picked up my pieces
But this time
You're far behind
I should have known this would happen to me.  There were all the signs; all the warnings.
Nayana Nair Mar 21
There were pieces of you
that were not mine.
I tried to make you my picture,
tried to get rid of the part
where I could see reflection
of loves that could have almost stayed for life.
I wanted you for me
and that’s where I went wrong.
The heart cannot know broken
If the heart is never whole
Flaca xx Jan 22
I think we make ourselves sad. I mean, have you ever heard sad music because you wanted to? That's when we start crying. Thinking of someone or maybe the past.
Niobe Jan 22

After the fall, I would never feel the same.

Nothing comes easy anymore,
Like the fall closed every open door,
Like the fall had so much left in store,
Like the fall became me.
Like the fall consumed all that I knew.
Like the fall walked around in my shoes,
Sang my tunes,
Learned my lessons, wrote my notes, wore my glasses,
Like the fall attended all of my classes.
It used up all of my bathroom passes
To sit in the stalls and mourn.
Nothing comes easy anymore,
Like the fall clothed me,
Like the fall closed me.
I don't live here anymore,
Nobody's home.

I never knew I would never be the same,
Same veins, same body, same brain,
But heart would never be the same.
Nothing would ever feel the same.
I never knew I could be evicted from myself,
Could be placed on a shelf
In a bedroom I have never been in,
Told to live in,
To fall in.

I never knew I could change so drastically,
But welcome to reality.


I never knew I could fall in love.
I am the fall and not enough,
People are the mourning dove -
They fly above my reach,
Above a surface I cannot breach -
And someday I hope they will teach me
How to fly with grace, but none look down.

Of course none look down.
That's how you fall when you're flying,
That's how you become the fall
While trying to be the fly.
That's how you become me.

Their feathers are never feathers in reality,
They have this kind of duality,
They are feathers and they are blades of grass.
They are steel and twine, but alas,
Strong as a bull, but shatter like glass.


A while ago, I wanted to know how to draw,
So I figured it out.
Now I want to know how to thaw
My heart out of its icy case,
Let it shine through the skin on my face,
And maybe feeling things
Won't be such a game of chase.

Learning to draw took a few years,
Learning to thaw may take a few tears,
And I doubt I will ever thaw at all.
That is a part of being the fall -
The thaw is so far off.

I wish the ice were as thin as people tell me.
No matter how much I skate,
There is never a crack to see.
I suppose that's the fare they charge to skate,
The height of the fee.
It never breaks, never melts,
Not that I can tell.

All this after the fall,
And the fall was only part the first.
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