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For everything fake -
Let me feel it one last time
Kismet sweet,
Villas bleak
Marble sticky -
Granite meat

Let me **** the vein of glitter streets
Surf the sadness,
Salt rose glass rush

Teddies haunted with softness beyond us
A ****** blue boldness that begged you to crop love -

Titan arum-sea saint
With your blood like rain,
Inhaling all the darkness
Freshly cut grass cane blade;

Remain in light, an amber blaze...
Curtain wall shatter all skies for our pleonectic pace
Ariannah Aug 14
Do you have any idea
How illegal it feels not to be able to cry in your own room?
because being heard is too high of a risk
and instead,
you have to tip toe to the bathroom
careful not to make any of the crying sounds,
Just to get in there
and unconsciously fall on the hard cold ground,
searching for the bit of light
you once saw at the end of the tunnel.


But then you realize
that maybe down there is where you belong,
maybe that's where you were supposed to get to once you felt like all you do is wrong,
and it just feels like the right moment to give up
when there's no more air entering your lungs,
Or no more hope hidden deep into your heart,
when your head can no longer rest on your shoulders,
and it has to fall on the hard wood door,
when the tears streaming down your face are too many than your messy hands and clothes could handle,
and the eyes just hurt too much to be opened by now..


But you have to get up,
You have to calm down,
You have to find a way to make yourself able to breathe normally again,
So you crawl,
And you crawl,
till you reach something that could help you get up,
Only to feel physically hurt by one's actions.


You stare in the mirror,
And question how did we even get here;
You no longer recall or remember any of the things happening outside the room,
When all you have to do is fake smile and move on.
No.
You're just staring at yourself.
And it's just you.
But you right now look more like a monster, a messy unloved piece of art that just reflects how you feel because it's true..
But it's still you.


And it only took you that moment to realize that you had lost...
But not just any game,
you lost the version of yourself you never thought would live again..
And you're empty.
You just feel defeated.
There in the bathroom looking in the mirror.
And it hurts.
It hurts not to be able to look in your eyes,
It hurts even more just when you see you cry.


But you hold on,
And with your trembling hand,
You turn on the water and try to wash your face,
as if the sadness would just come off;
like some messy make up you forgot to whipe off.
So the tears go,
But new ones just reappear,
And the sadness you thought was gone just keeps on hanging near.
And it's close.
And it hits again
with a type of hurt someone only feels when they are too scared to try again.
And it hurts.
It hurts because it's rare.
To still love and not feel like they really care.
Or maybe they do
but you're just too hurt to think
of another 50 ways of how this is not a real thing...


But you're still looking in the mirror,
and you realize you kinda have to go,
because you spent too much time hanging low..
So you whipe all your tears,
and put on a big fake smile,
then crawl back to the door,
But you stop.
you take a big deep breath,
and lift your chin up like you didn't loose yourself in there.


And you open the door.
And try to normally walk into your room
Like your heart isn't shattered into tiny pieces scattered because it just went "boom".
And you get in there,
but you're too afraid to speak
cause even the silence feels too loud when you're just trying to keep,
keep yourself sane
and tell yourself how it's just gonna be ok.


But it's impossible to make yourself think that way
When the only thing you were able to think was just how everything got destroyed in the time of a blink.
blaire May 15
“I am a mosaic of everything I’ve ever loved” or rather I am a piece of the mosaic that everybody loved. The small crooked and triangular shard of what once was loved.

But how come im only a part of a mosaic? And can’t be my own image. How come I have to depend on others in order to be complete and perfect.

Oh why do I have to be perfect? Is it the feeling that I have to or is it cause I want to? Either way its not possible, cause as they say no one will ever be perfect— they will always be close to perfect but not perfect. Just as the glue overflows yet i still stick, the overflowing uncontrollable emotions— I have to **** up because no ones wants extra glue.

No one wants to get sticky fingers. So I stay silent—staying as a shard that i am, drying hardening and dying.
OdotLondon Apr 25
Some things shatter
Some things bloom
These words illustrate that perfectly.
Broken pieces
Now seeds.
Buried deep
Growing peace.

Something shattered
Something bloomed
A crash
A boom
In an empty room
I once was a poet
Today I’m a poem
Fragmented
Retracing my steps
Finding myself in the empty.
Galaxies between words
Worlds from previous dropped pins.
I dropped pens
Knowing I’d search again.
(From prompt: somethings shatter, somethings bloom)
A child

all alone

in the darkness

a time when

their world of fantasy

no longer there

to support them




As she walks on the unstable ground

all she wants is someone there

to keep her from falling

in this pool of confusion




But she couldn’t speak

The words don’t come out right

So instead she learned

not to talk at all




It worked

for a while

When the bottle broke

She could only blame herself

as she picked back up the pieces

ready to start all over again
You always beat me
At every game we played
So when I broke your heart
It was only natural that
You'd shatter mine
Effortlessly
Checkmate
Àŧùl Sep 2024
I am going to forget your memories from my heart,
It's as if I'm going to erase my own existence.

This fiddle 🎻 I play so passionately as an art,
It's as if I'm going to shatter it down piece by piece.

I am going to forget your memories from my heart,
It's as if I'm going to erase my own existence.

May these clouds cry their shower along me,
For today, I'm going to weep like grown-up babies.

Fingers hurt, especially the ones in my left hand,
As they slide vigorously on the violin's neck.

Let me rub my regrets onto this rebec's neck,
Ah! The friction on the strings pierced my fingers.

This violin's strings become undone by my ferocity,
I'll sleep, knowing that I can't be loved by any.
My HP Poem #1993
©Atul Kaushal
𝐕𝐕 Jun 2024
Her hair, reminiscent of glass
Dusty perplexions, missing pearlescent marbles
She's a dream awaiting the arrival of the next writer
To speak of her story to the masqueraded creature
Posing as light to the dark universe she's encased in

She's the raging madness in her soul
Thrashing yet loving anyone who kisses her
Hidden love affairs, descending silhouettes
Leftover clothes tossed unruly; a decadent stench
Intrusive but polite to wilting foliage

Lip stains, droplets of blood, dislocated jaws
Time, unforgiving as always, punishes its victims
Misery coats her barely twinkling soul
The one who shatters her mirror
May forgive her to finally be free.
Serendipity Jan 2024
God
God is 1000 pieces of shattered glass
begging to be put together,
inside you see your reflection
and wonder why is God's so much better.
louella Jun 2023
if you shatter into a million fragments fallen like a disco ball,
i will lift them with both my hands and put you back again.
sweating brow and unhappiness
i’ll take this weight from off your chest.
to live with the regret of losing you
would be the worst kind of eternal punishment.
it’s a vulnerable hour
coarse tongues and sharpened claws.
i awake to the shameless sound of your howling
bouncing off the walls
torn apart.
nightfall is brutal but i have the pieces of your heart
to wrap around my cold malnourished frame,
swallowing me whole involuntarily.
it’s all gonna be ok for me.
so, it’s about you, k. it’s also about wanting to fall in love so deeply that their flaws are beautiful paintings in the art gallery to me, and their flaws make them human which makes them pure and meaningful. love :))))
the normal human yearning for peace and adoration.

6/18/23
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