#chipped - Hello Poetry

I have not a Chip My heart tends to beat Skip Bitten lower lip Quivers Shaken bow Sharp Arrows Archer Aimed Deadshot Insane Sadness seams ripped to Smiles I Delivered None the less soul shook to shiver Sharpen up that attitude For briefest of care for the endless brood I do have some cracks Spackle specked front to back Sorrow shallowly sunk skin deep Toddler to Teen to Twenty-nineteen Tirelessly testing Me Broken Little Pieces Have indeed befallen Me But Here is the Trick to Treat My Broken Little Pieces Like Stem Cells Not to be rid of Instead held aside to review to reflect For a Better You Lies within even the Broken View So Cracked, Chipped, or Broken These are the Ingenium Gems Unspoken Pressure Pressed, Stress and all the Mess We Push, Plead, FIGHT aloud Broken Little Pieces Mine Make Me Proud

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Dec 8, 2019

Dec 8, 2019 at 8:18 PM UTC

HCF

Broken Little Pieces

I have not a Chip My heart tends to beat Skip Bitten lower lip Quivers Shaken bow Sharp Arrows Archer Aimed Deadshot Insane Sadness seams ripped to Smiles I Delivered None the less soul shook to shiver Sharpen up that attitude For briefest of care for the endless brood I do have some cracks Spackle specked front to back Sorrow shallowly sunk skin deep Toddler to Teen to Twenty-nineteen Tirelessly testing Me Broken Little Pieces Have indeed befallen Me But Here is the Trick to Treat My Broken Little Pieces Like Stem Cells Not to be rid of Instead held aside to review to reflect For a Better You Lies within even the Broken View So Cracked, Chipped, or Broken These are the Ingenium Gems Unspoken Pressure Pressed, Stress and all the Mess We Push, Plead, FIGHT aloud Broken Little Pieces Mine Make Me Proud

31

coffee stain memories (an aging love) our dozen or so mugs, all white, her color of choice, accumulating stains of black-brown coffee that the dishwasher poetically concedes, a decade plus of drinking, now, oh-now, ****** and can’t be removed the lips of some are chipped, the lips of some are chapped, but they remain employed for first coffee is a demonstrable affectation of affection that losing would be costly *but one of us soto voce, quietly whispers the radical ionized idea, shouldn’t we replace, this should-not is an update, a cognition of a bridge too far, both agreeing, both conceding the symbolism, the heart acknowledges a momentary thrombosis, for the losing turnover is a winless loss* messaging in and about, an aging staining love losing ~ A no ki tov tuesday poem

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Apr 16, 2019

Apr 16, 2019 at 11:40 AM UTC

poetoftheway

coffee stain memories (an aging love)

coffee stain memories (an aging love) our dozen or so mugs, all white, her color of choice, accumulating stains of black-brown coffee that the dishwasher poetically concedes, a decade plus of drinking, now, oh-now, ****** and can’t be removed the lips of some are chipped, the lips of some are chapped, but they remain employed for first coffee is a demonstrable affectation of affection that losing would be costly *but one of us soto voce, quietly whispers the radical ionized idea, shouldn’t we replace, this should-not is an update, a cognition of a bridge too far, both agreeing, both conceding the symbolism, the heart acknowledges a momentary thrombosis, for the losing turnover is a winless loss* messaging in and about, an aging staining love losing ~ A no ki tov tuesday poem

25

You and I will crack one day The smoothness will all go away And as our hairs fade into grey Will the love still stay? We promise love until the dust But so often forget the rust Failing frequently to discuss What happens if nothing happens to us The porcelain will splinter and chip Marking, for some, where the veil rips But my love lasts more than just a stint Of smooth skin on my fingertips For if the twilight fades the blue It replaces it with countless hues And so will grow my love for you In seeing, remem’bring what we’ve gone through You and I will crack, no doubt But my love will faithfully pour out To endless bound, in copious amounts A quenching water from an undying spout

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Oct 17, 2018

Oct 17, 2018 at 10:09 AM UTC

nik-bland

Cracked, Dusty, Splintered, Chipped, & Ripped

You and I will crack one day The smoothness will all go away And as our hairs fade into grey Will the love still stay? We promise love until the dust But so often forget the rust Failing frequently to discuss What happens if nothing happens to us The porcelain will splinter and chip Marking, for some, where the veil rips But my love lasts more than just a stint Of smooth skin on my fingertips For if the twilight fades the blue It replaces it with countless hues And so will grow my love for you In seeing, remem’bring what we’ve gone through You and I will crack, no doubt But my love will faithfully pour out To endless bound, in copious amounts A quenching water from an undying spout

20

there’s a gouging hole where my chest used to be ever since the moment i met you a tiny piece of me has crumbled and fallen to the floor leaving trails of myself as i pass and over the months as i have been chipped away at my soul has emptied i’ve grown tired of the pain i’ve grown tired of the wanting and the longing i’ve rushed to pick up pieces of myself again but i found that they don’t fit i am not the same anymore we are not the same nothing will be like it was these months have sloshed like water, up and down and now the water is gone a new tide has come in and i don’t know how to fit here in these waters what to expect from them acceptance rolls in between my fingers touching my skin and begging to be absorbed this past month i have been playing with it in my hands, feeling its tacky sticky texture it promises no returns, only a way to pick up my pieces again and fill in the gaps you left, with it’s presence i lay on the ground water laps at my body and pushes bits of me into the holes they once occupied i lay my hand is now covered in it, the acceptance i lay in the slowness, the grey sounds of the water filling my ear and there is nothing i can do but wait wait for the acceptance to over take my body wait for myself to be whole again i remember your face and i wonder how that’s ever possible and yet here i am, being put back together and remedied here i am waiting for my impossibilities to soak into my skin and become possible here i am

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Dec 25, 2017

Dec 25, 2017 at 5:36 AM UTC

greenmintleaves

recovery

there’s a gouging hole where my chest used to be ever since the moment i met you a tiny piece of me has crumbled and fallen to the floor leaving trails of myself as i pass and over the months as i have been chipped away at my soul has emptied i’ve grown tired of the pain i’ve grown tired of the wanting and the longing i’ve rushed to pick up pieces of myself again but i found that they don’t fit i am not the same anymore we are not the same nothing will be like it was these months have sloshed like water, up and down and now the water is gone a new tide has come in and i don’t know how to fit here in these waters what to expect from them acceptance rolls in between my fingers touching my skin and begging to be absorbed this past month i have been playing with it in my hands, feeling its tacky sticky texture it promises no returns, only a way to pick up my pieces again and fill in the gaps you left, with it’s presence i lay on the ground water laps at my body and pushes bits of me into the holes they once occupied i lay my hand is now covered in it, the acceptance i lay in the slowness, the grey sounds of the water filling my ear and there is nothing i can do but wait wait for the acceptance to over take my body wait for myself to be whole again i remember your face and i wonder how that’s ever possible and yet here i am, being put back together and remedied here i am waiting for my impossibilities to soak into my skin and become possible here i am

33

I've been told that I am too broken to be loved, too damaged, too crooked and bent for someone to cherish. But perhaps it is on those very edges, those very ragged edges, that loves snags and is held. So before you tell me that no one can find beauty in my chipped soul, look at your own perfect life and ask yourself if love has ever crept into the crevices and hinged itself on smooth skin.

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Jun 28, 2016

Jun 28, 2016 at 6:51 PM UTC

janae-marie

Hinged

I've been told that I am too broken to be loved, too damaged, too crooked and bent for someone to cherish. But perhaps it is on those very edges, those very ragged edges, that loves snags and is held. So before you tell me that no one can find beauty in my chipped soul, look at your own perfect life and ask yourself if love has ever crept into the crevices and hinged itself on smooth skin.

8

I have a boundless amount of imperfections, And I confess them, profess them, Reveal them, show their stem, And for that I'm condemned; Viewed as ugly, terrible, unbearable, Seen as bizarre, out-so-far, marred... But wouldn't you say I'm perfect in a way? You hide your flaws, keep them from day. Yet I pay, because I WILL say, What flaws in me lay.

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Nov 20, 2015

Nov 20, 2015 at 4:20 PM UTC

CodyHaag

Imperfections

I have a boundless amount of imperfections, And I confess them, profess them, Reveal them, show their stem, And for that I'm condemned; Viewed as ugly, terrible, unbearable, Seen as bizarre, out-so-far, marred... But wouldn't you say I'm perfect in a way? You hide your flaws, keep them from day. Yet I pay, because I WILL say, What flaws in me lay.

10