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Hubbiya 1d
Sometimes I wonder,
Humans are made?
Or created? To write,
Can be lengthy
Coz they do a lot,
A lot that may hurt
That may love,
But some,
I'm on the cloud
To see them whole.
Norman Crane Sep 28
how many times
can we part
and still remain whole
We are all just specs of color
Painting one big canvas
Portraying a much bigger picture
He gave her
A modicum of his❤️
She demanded more
Modicums followed
She now had the whole
Greater than the sum of its parts
She is quite smart
She used it
Abused it
Finally broke it
It's lying shattered and scattered
Down town
On lookers
Wondering
What happened?
You may give a bit of your heart to anyone. When you constantly keep giving your heart in bits to someone, you are falling in love. Finally, you give whole of your heart. You are in love! This experience is greater than the sum of your experiences in bits. You know Aristotle spoke the truth when he said: " The whole is greater than the sum of its parts."
Amanda Aug 29
Our energies peaked in perfect synchronization
The ultimate pinnacle of all elation
Nothing in this world has a flavor as sweet
As your sensual lips when our mouths gently meet
Something a brain can't neatly put into a box and hide
Futile analyzation of the tangled emotions kept inside
What is the origin of longing I fail to repress?
Desire too powerful to accurately express
Confident your heart holds identical emotion
Bound to each other by endless devotion
Like the moon and the sun we set and we rise
Take turns being the light in each others skies
I look at your face and my breath is taken
Right out of my chest
I let you break-in
Nobody else on Earth could unlock the door
Though many have tried to find the key before
You were the first to successfully step inside my soul
And the last
Because you have finally made me whole
For my soulmate
Terra Levez Aug 19
Put the Broken Things together
And see the bigger picture
Things that were once
Hoped to be a whole again
Something made together
But now I carry it alone
Or do u carry some of the Broken Pieces too?
Do you look down at your hands when the sharp edges cut?
Like glass it used to shine, tempered in fire, made on the sands of distant beaches
Now I look through those Broken Pieces
I see blood on my hands
For when people who you thought would never leave. And they left with your bond like broken glass in your palms
sara Aug 2
Searching for asylum
in broken peoples’ broken hearts.

Our minds both made of china,
our eyes are bright, our tongues are sharp.

Our hands, we intertwine them;
although our hearts stand far apart.

We cling on for survival,
and claim to be complete at last.
A poem as a reminder that another person cannot make you whole, stop looking for emotional asylum in others
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