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Enola Cabrera Apr 2016
She sagged to the floor with despair
Feeling as if she was deprived of air
Her world was ripped from under her feet
The only feeling she had left was defeat

Lauren Leal Mar 2016
The saddest thing I ever saw,
            Was a woman who couldn't see her mans efforts.
                        Especially when I watched him rip his heart out,
                                     and she got mad that he got blood everywhere.
The writing speaks for itself. This can also be interpreted the other way.
Pauline Morris Feb 2016
With that self inflicted wound were she ripped out her own soul
There was things she didn't know
Things that also had to go

What went first was empathy
Followed close by sympathy
Then of course was faith
But that really died with years of agonizing wreath
I would say dreams
But those died years ago it seems

What hurt the most
And why it was so hard to cope
Was the microcosm thin string holding hope
It was crushed in the grind
No where you look, will you find

She no longer believed in yin and yang
Or karma, they where the same, nonexistent
She seemed to know it in an instant
Nothing happened for a reason
To think that would be treason
It was all just random chaos, and dumb luck
Just depends on what side of the coin you're stuck
There was only random acts of cruelty
This world is more than unruly

With these facts now planted firmly in her head
What little light within her fled
The darkness slowly seeped inside
As she gasped out one silent sigh
Now totally consumed, she would never shed a tear, it was as if she had never cried
For her former self passed away, her old personality died
Reina Franco Feb 2016
I am too shattered
to be ripped apart
once more.
ICN Oct 2015
all these broken things surround me
our broken relationship
these ripped papers
the pencils that i snapped in half
that ugly drawing i drew

the pictures on the wall mock me,
your eyes penetrate my soul
they capture a much simpler moment, in a much simpler time of our lives.
//how come i'm there for everyone, but when i most need people i'm alone?\\
gravygod Oct 2015
I want to rip you apart
until you are merely fragments of human
ripped and vulnerable
then I could finally tell you
how I feel
about you
about us
about the way I strive for us to exist together
in this lonely universe.
I would glue you back
piece by piece
carefully and slowly
making sure you are still just as perfect
as you were before.
but I know that no matter what
you will be
you make my heart sing pure joy
just by the look you give to me
the sensation of your warm hands on my skin
nothing could make me feel more secure
even since the first time I saw you
my soul was awakened
I was given a purpose
to fall in love with you.
you don't love me though
and you never will.
I am nothing to you
just a foolish female
who will give you anything you desire
that is my own fault,
not yours
I have let myself lust for you
too many times
and now I am stuck
craving your presence and voice
your affection and promises
I know I am a sucker for you
and I am not sure
if I will ever not be
this broke me
b for short Oct 2015
Stores, they sell ripped jeans—
profiting off of damage
just like us poets.
© Bitsy Sanders, September 2015
Jack Thompson Jul 2015
Sometimes it's just a hug.
Sometimes it's a kiss.
All you need is warmth.
Looking in your eyes like this.

You pull me in.
And squeeze me tight.
Tears roll down your cheek.
A hug you just cant fight.

Creating new words.
To describe this feeling.
Fierce embrase of reuniting love.
Everlasting and forever reeling.

You have this way.
That turns my heart.
A millions times like the sun.
Wind me up, I'm jack in the box.

Riddled with beauty.
More than theyve ever found.
Delicately adored by me.
How crazy does that sound?

You turn my heart to mush.
Cliche is it?
But there it is right there on the ground..

You ripped it out of my chest.
But it still beats harder than its meant.
***** and muddy bent not broken.
It still beats ******* the cement.
© All Rights Reserved Jack Thompson 2015
oni Jul 2015
she speaks of you
like you put the
stars in her sky,
and then ripped them out
one by one.
Paul Rousseau Jun 2015
(The page is torn on the left alignment)

...And then they would place their pistols beneath their chins and pull the trigger. I would see it as some cylindrical spatter of blood escaping from the tops of their heads, like over exaggerated gore from the adult movies. So what would happen next for them exactly? Blackness? No. That is still something. Perhaps just empty. No. Can't be. Empty has potential to be filled, rendering it not quite nothing. I suppose it would be like before you were born. Do you remember it?
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