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Anya Sep 2018
I’ve discvoered
A strange pastime of mine
I like to look for flaws
Little things I am ashamed of
Then use poetry
To slowly unravel them
Bit by bit
Like the
Small intestine
We unraveled in our seventh
Grade fetal
Pig disection
Just like that
The ugly flaws
Are unraveled bit by bit
Left in all their original
Blunt grotesque
Glory
In my mind
To be analyzed
And on paper
-or a screen I suppose
Embeleshed,
Into something
Beautified and attractive
But,
Still honest despite
Holding back
To an extent
...
Meanwhile,
In my mind
The flaws are
Picked apart
With little probes

Occasionally,
A finite solution
And method to
Get rid of the
Flaw
Placed on
My never ending
Bucket list

But,
More often than not-
...
ERROR
NO SOLUTION
REQUIRES FURTHER STUDY
Vale Luna May 2018
A love so fragile
That it hurts when I breathe
Shattered memories
Swept by the breeze

A love so scrambled
That it leaves me confused
My heart’s been abused
Black and blue bruised

A love so tangled
That it ends up in knots
A tied-up blood clot
Starting to rot

A love so unraveled
That it loses control
A physical toll
Burnt on my soul

A love so fragile
That is breaks when I try
Starting to know why
I do nothing but cry.
Sarah Michelle May 2015
Famous or known, wise
or grown, gone or just zero?
Grained or unraveled?
May Sep 2014
No matter how fast
or how far 
she would run 
her mind was coming
slowly undone
she tried to escape 
from the pain
from the sorrow
fearing the promises
of tomorrow
knowing that everyday
was always the same
putting on a mask
trying to stay
sane
but faster and faster
unravled her mind
walls slowly cracking
waiting for 
the time
she finally breaks
and lets it all out
the screams
the hatred
all of her doubts
and no one will know
where it all came from
the happy sweet girl
you knew was gone
and in her place
stands broken
stands torn
the girl that was inside
now showing 
her horns
Time after time,
I might love you,
Until the time I let go:

Until I die.

Will it be OK when I can't feel my heart anymore?
Could I still love the harsh cries,
The deadly, lovely words
Meant for you?

Would you call it love
If I wrote you
A thousand poems?

Were we meant to be
Tonight,
Alone with only our thoughts
And the knowledge
We did it the same as yesterday?

I can't take anymore.
Feazings Definition: An unraveled rope end
There is a picture of me.
Next to the word "unraveled" in the dictionary.
Dad likes to remind me.
Mom likes to confer.
I set goals to high.
I don't fit my own standards

— The End —