#fragmentation
It runs along the borders of our skin like a siren,
Humming gently yet pulsing and beating,
Its intensity barely detectable,
But if you listen you hear it crawling along your veins,
You are you for many reasons you cannot explain
It cannot be extracted with scalpel-like blades,
It doesn’t seem to respond to glowing sheets of glass,
Press your finger against your lip …
Hold it there and listen
A mosaic of trouble erupts within your mind,
You hide your fear of fragments and cling to one,
Yanking on its shoulder as if your life depends on it,
And you truly believe it does until you’re told otherwise,
The seasons come to a standstill yet you continue to clamber,
Towards a ghost-like vision of harmony
Like grains of sand we slip away while blaming ourselves for our failures,
We live in doom, in awful insolence until we’re triggered,
By that inescapable insight …
That we are massive, only divisible through thought,
Yes, only our minds bring about our self-destruction,
Despite the obvious fact:
That we are indivisible, collected, and composed,
By the dignity of the absolute
Oct 1, 2025
Oct 1, 2025 at 11:39 PM UTC
I was born mid-eye-roll,
c-sectioned from a punchline.
First words were don’t start with me,
second were fine, stay.
My spine’s in italics.
I bend for no one
but poetry
and panic.
I talk in skip-steps.
I cry in parentheses.
I kiss like a loophole.
He said you’re hard to read,
so I wrote myself louder.
Time doesn’t pass here,
it tantrums.
I clock in and out of myself hourly.
My skin’s on backward.
My hunger has subtitles.
My ghost writes sonnets in the steam on the mirror
and signs them:
Almost.
I invented a verb that means
to leave someone before they prove they would’ve.
I use it daily.
It conjugates into silence.
It rhymes with obviously.
The doctors say it’s chronic.
Pre-traumatic glow disorder.
I blush before the pain hits.
I glitter out of spite.
Don’t ask if I’m okay.
Ask which version of me is answering.
Ask if I remembered to name my wounds
before dressing them up like confetti.
Apr 6, 2025
Apr 6, 2025 at 9:56 AM UTC
I drag this weight,
each step a crime against the ground.
Am I a ghost,
too solid to slip away,
or an animal,
broken, bent,
flesh tight with the burden of living?
I cannot call myself human—
humans ache with love,
but I am jagged,
a wound that won't heal.
Too wild to tame,
too hollow to be held.
Time to vanish—
to dissolve into night,
my absence felt by none.
Jan 13, 2025
Jan 13, 2025 at 1:06 PM UTC
I am being drawn and quartered
By each expectation pulling away,
Tugging at my fragile sense
Of identity (if there ever was one)
Until suddenly, oh no! So suddenly
I am in pieces, and each person has only
A part of myself, that is all I can give—
I gave myself the death sentence, they’re
Only the horses that tear away my
Skin.
As they bolt away, I wonder
How far they will go until they
Realize
That I am no longer Whole.
I sit here sinking
Into the dirt,
Without feeling because I am on
The precipice of numbness,
A mere step away from screaming.
Nov 16, 2024
Nov 16, 2024 at 2:45 PM UTC
when the radiator's rusty and there's dust in the fan
when the seas have run oily and our heads fill with sand
when there's trash in our hedges and springs in our beds
we shout: we need new machines!
we need new machines! we need,
we need new machines!
election season cycles round and there's no sign of change
so you come down to the scrapyard and begin to exchange
some words with a friend that you built out of parts
from machines: we need new machines!
we need new machines! we need,
we need new machines!
i'd like to slow down
a request to the crowd
a moment of rest
just a moment, or i'll split
into half, and then into half again
and all four quarters will rearrange
so your god has been spotted in geometry's bloom
and wherever you go there's a whale in the room
well i'm crazy for cubists, so baby don't go
stay here: we'll make new machines!
we'll make new machines! we'll make,
we'll make new machines!
Jun 22, 2024
Jun 22, 2024 at 10:16 PM UTC
#
*Hey kid..
Vulnerability is your access in to what is real,
though as you know..
not always is it safe to do or be, in this world..
in fact, there are those who will, or have..
shown you over and over again,
that vulnerability of heart with them
will get your sweet little *** slapped down into the dirt..
over and over again..
(as if you did not already know, firsthand).
There are many reasons those people behave that way,
and every single one of them deal with hurt..
and hope (when they still had it), being unfairly
and unkindly stifled back inside of them.
In hating and then stomping all over your vulnerability,
they are in truth, hating their own..
and rightfully so, for what they had to endure..
but until they want to see and change,
they will be the death of you..
or at least the death of your awakening heart.
But there are those who thrive on vulnerability
because they have learned to believe once again..
in the word, Hope.. and when vulnerability of another
comes towards them, they cannot help but celebrate it
from the place inside of them that is overwhelmingly grateful
that it still exists.
.. When you open up that way, I want to kiss you deeply.
In truth, all vulnerability and authenticity at that level
should always be met with the deepest of kisses.
You have the right idea.. but sometimes with the wrong people.
You've been nearly trampled to death in the process--
starting at such a tremendously tender, young age.
It makes a person edgy..
(and if extremely brilliant, in that gorgeous brain of yours..)..
ya, kid.. sarcastic AF.
That's where you get hurt.
That is where you hurt yourself.
At times when the emotional **** hits the fan,
and everything starts feeling like its all going wrong..
that gorgeous brain separates itself from that beautiful heart..
making it feel as if it has gone dark..
and then that brain.. thinking that it has been left to its own
survival resources, turns 'mean' ..
in its own perceived abandonment by the heart.
At those moments, you feel the horrendously-black
and empty, loss of self..
That is when it all starts compounding, quantitatively
No one understands, and so when you actually
are needing it the most,
Grace through understanding, in an instant gives way
to judgment and ridicule by others.. causing you by necessity,
to retreat further back into yourself..
relying on more and more of the one time, necessary (when little)
but now so relationally-damaging, survival skills.
Beautiful girl with beautiful heart and amazing mind,
becomes fragmented.. compounded by her own
now nearly out of control, age-old tactics and behaviors...
And those that do not understand, stand back and paint
(and allow to have painted) a view of you.. that in truth,
truly is not you..
but is only self-protection/survival-mode,
but on steroids--
Beautiful heart, implodes..
within the loss of its much-needed, beautiful self.
Brilliant mind goes into hyper-drive,
now left alone to its own, survival-resources--
Hacking it out in the ******** wilderness, without
its much trusted and needed, Compadre..
that Beautiful, beautiful heart.
You are not that person, Babe.
You are the owner and possessor of two extremely-gifted organs--
both placed into you to be in full relationship with each other.
That is who you are.
When they are fragmented and torn from one-another,
that is not truly the true, you. But since they are both yours,
you are in the strongest essence, accountable.
Somewhere within all of that,
guilt and self-condemnation kick in..
and literally beat the living **** out of you.
That brain of yours, Babe.. it is beautifully-brilliant
and also quite the ************
You are not "mean".
You are not "unkind" or "unloving"
(though, in essence-- at those times, you are)
No..*
**..You are temporarily detached.. fragmented--
separated from what it is that you so desperately
need the most---** y o u.
*.. But your own guilt and self-judgment
slap the **** out of yourself
almost as hard (sometimes harder)
than the one who is now pointing their finger at you..
in all of their hurt.
All you need, is Understanding.
Love cares enough to want to give you that.
Love cares enough to want to take care of its own story
so it can better see and understand
how to help you with yours.
That is what you need. That is what you deserve.
That is the kind of love you are worthy of.
You are everything beautiful that I have been saying that you are.
Within your at times, own Great Divide..
the blackness between the two parts of you that you need most,
completely blocks out your own, much-needed view of you.
I see the picture, my Beautiful..
I have a right to speak to you this way.
You took my breath away, right from the get-go.
The only way I could get even
was by looking directly at you.
It is your talking and opening up that did it.
What you so often and so rightfully need to run from,
is the very thing that is actually, most saving you.
To be "seen" is to be understood..
if the one doing the looking
is doing it for all the right reasons.
No one has ever understood.
That is where you get hurt.
And in the aloneness within it all,
is where you hurt yourself the most.*
Mm.
This party is far from over, Babe..
Far from it, beautiful girl.
*..And so it is with Magic.
You are beautiful, beyond words.*
❤️️
#
Feb 23, 2022
Feb 23, 2022 at 8:30 PM UTC
Pieces of me
F l o a t i n g
S
i
n
k
i
n
g
Hiding below the surface
Keeping them submerged takes effort
Drains energy
Makes the pieces feel like a secret
wrong
shameful
What if
I lose them
Buried deep
Out of sight
Out of mind
Never to be seen again
The fear seems foolish sometimes
but terrifyingly real
To be always incomplete
Never able
To put the pieces back together
What if my self didn’t need to fragment
For others’ comfort
Their easy understanding
And acceptance
Wholeness is hard to imagine
Especially for the pieces that started to s
u
b
m
e
r
g
e
before memory began
What a wonderful dream though
To always have access to all of your parts and pieces
To in fact not have pieces
To just be
One person
Complete
And whole
Nov 5, 2021
Nov 5, 2021 at 5:59 PM UTC
A life lived without any meditation
is subjected to much fragmentation.
________________________
© 2021 George Krokos
Mar 6, 2021
Mar 6, 2021 at 9:56 AM UTC
#the forming of substance 04
Stephan W
*"For years I’ve wanted to live
according to everyone else’s morals.
I’ve forced myself to live like everyone else,
to look like everyone else.
I said what was necessary to join together,
even when I felt separate.
And after all of this, catastrophe came.
Now I wander amid the debris,
I am lawless, torn to pieces,
alone and accepting to be so,
resigned to my singularity and to my infirmities.
And I must rebuild a truth–
after having lived all my life in a sort of lie."
~Albert Camus*
~
*Worlds apart,
there is a tension
an alienation--
now, strangers-
in a not so strange land
So many parts..
fighting the glow
fighting each other-
These parts, hiding--
From having to be seen- when needed,
From the pain of
having to need the other parts
who also are so unable,
From the visibility--
from having to be asked to join in-
to the process of
an integrated internal functioning;
the metabolizing of things.
From the pain of it all-
and the despondency that will come
from any attempt
to even try.*
~ ~
*The spirit--
its dimly-lit distant memories
of a wholly different time
now afraid to ingrain itself
into a body- that is as of yet
wholly unable to even know itself--
Fragmented parts of the heart;
broken spirit,
a lonely longing-
There is a division
a separation
immersed in a dank mist of fear--
Parts-- nearly touching
but, so unable to see..
or even feel each other in the dark
And the greatest loneliness
becomes the one that is lived within oneself--
An unlived-living
within the broken internal-world
of fragmented parts-
now huddled into remote corners
with such large spaces in between;
parts, isolated from
other parts.*
~ ~ ~
*One day they will no longer be
so afraid of each other--
Even in its dimly-lit state of being,
the spirit yearns for a cohesiveness,
a wholeness--
a re-integration of all the parts;
a reassembling.
Until that time, everything will be partial;
dis- assembled
fragmented.*
#
Sep 30, 2020
Sep 30, 2020 at 10:41 PM UTC
currents unseen
compress space
distil life's
drive
laser beam sharp
hidden lest robbed
chained yet
free
ego crushed
constrained
causing
breaks
confetti dreams
take wings
orb's disparate
parts
inhabit one frame
fragmented scope
splintered tones
link
eternal sentience shines
born of toxic fumes
from other beings'
waste
Mar 31, 2017
Mar 31, 2017 at 7:45 PM UTC
Where the whole that was
has finally
fragmented,
descending in an open, unremarkable blaze.
And so pieces of me shall collide
with the ground,
implanting fractures
few shall discern.
And the winds of days
and nights will continue to
persuade the dirt unto me
so my morose roots will not grow,
infesting a world undeserving
of my inadvertent pollution.
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 7:03 PM UTC