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Owen 5d
Some people are in pieces,
thats just the way they are now.
And sometimes,
each of those pieces
holds the love of a lifetime.
It is beautiful,
unfair, and heartbreaking
at times,
when the pieces are not held
by just one person.
LC 7d
she ran a hand over her heart.
the tip of her finger got caught
in a small stitch tightly sewn
to keep her heart together.
but in that fateful moment,
the stitch quickly unraveled,
loosening her still-beating heart
until the pieces could do nothing
but stumble around each other,
crumble into soft, maroon dust,
and settle into her weary bones.
internetgirl Apr 30
these pieces of my heart
too small to pick up
too fragile to put back together
but when you hold me
i don't need to be fixed
Broken Pieces Apr 28
You know a lot of people in my life want to change who they are,
And I get that I used to think that, looking at others from afar.

One of the things I’ve learned from wanting to be you,
Was that you are hurt and broken too.

You always think someone else has a better life,
But most times they are just better at hiding the knife.

We are all walking around with our broken pieces,
If you actually saw the population of the broken increases.

Being someone else doesn’t mean you’ll be healed,
It just means your deep dark memories will be sealed.
I didnt understand
Didnt know
I was broken
Because Ive never known
What it means to be whole
maybe never will...
Ive always been
I thought we're all whole
Before we break
Ive always been
b r o k e n . . .
Lights and all the shades
That its shapes throw,
Etched along the path of its travel
Are the moments it creates
Where we're wasting away
The time of our lives
In the hope that a beam
Will wash it all away,
Give us the enlightenment
For which we all pray
Let the wave of brightness
Pass through the keyhole
Of this dark room of life,
Make you look impeccable
While in reality
You're only
Dusting yourself off,
Picking up the pieces left over
In the wake of destruction
Caused by your own self,
The smile is unreal,
Not fake
You still carry hope
In the middle of all the cries
Some days you fall,
Other days you shall rise.
You can't run from the mountain,
If you want to drink from the fountain.
There’s poetry on my walls
Brightening up the halls
I reread one every day
I survey the words as I lay on my bed
Thinking of what I could have written instead
So many words going through my head
In the end, I still place them back up on the wall
Some of them I end up crumpling into a ball
And ripping them off my wall
Then I recall
When I wrote them
And how I felt like a sparkling gem
I tape them back together
Straighten the creases
And taping the pieces
When I look at my wall
I no longer feel small
Treat every piece of poetry as a precious gem. Because it is.
aya Feb 27
i lost my soul to
a boy, somewhere far along
the way with no love
finally in shs!! been super busy and didn't get the chance to update here :(( happy new year!!
Payton Feb 24
The way a child trusts so blindly, I will close my eyes and fall into your every word.
The sugary-sweet  scratch of every consonant and the friction of each vowel.
I will trust you with no hesitation.
If I fall, I know  that you will catch me.

The way a child clings to it's favorite blanket or stuffed toy,
I will hold onto you and never let go of the feeling you put in my heart.

The way a child finds no sorrow in it's days, I will too, look at the world in a sunlight so bright, there is no room for darkness.
When I am with you, I can know no sadness.

The way a child sleeps with a guardian teddy bear at it's side, to fight off every night terror, I will rest easy knowing you are beside me.
Your body pressed against mine, like perfect puzzle pieces.

The way a child day-dreams of anatomically incorrect hearts, and
cheek-kisses, I will dream of you and all of the butterflies you give me.

And the way a child believes from the bottom of their heart, that everything will be okay, I will give you my heart, and believe that you will not break it.
This poem was written in 2016.
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