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#porcelain
porcelain heart unsure of itself breaks apart when it’s compelled leads to a state of overwhelm any perceived attack it always falls back to when it was most at risk provoked to fit in time to build a wall lined with bricks
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Feb 26
Feb 26, 2026 at 5:30 PM UTC
porcelain heart
I keep the flood in a teaspoon Stir slow Don’t spill My throat learned how to Knot itself into napkins Folded Unused Beautiful You blinked and the room dimmed Just enough for me to Pack the sun away I speak in mist Maybe Never rain Your name still fits But only on the inside of my wrist Where nobody looks I walk lighter now No grace Just Less of me left to carry If I’m quiet enough you might Stay So I practice being nothing Loudly
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Jul 28, 2025
Jul 28, 2025 at 3:06 AM UTC
Porcelain Hum
You envelop me As if i'm a cup with a knocked off handle i fit into Your velocity Some unknown fingers stacked us into the same cabinet The one used for the fancy kitchenware The kind they would crack out when they want to impress So i pray that they're not vapid as that After all the greatest of virtues is depth If they open this godforsaken shelf They'll notice the flaws i carry on myself Cracked rim and a missing grip Damage that even self-love couldn't strip Love is always more potent when coming from another heart Porcelain is not as supple as a self-sustaining cat That can lick the lumps of dirt from her wounded back apart i heard that mangled cups go to waste But i swear that i will tear through the trashbag and Piece By Piece Or shard By Shard Crawl back between Your smooth curves Your fingers on my face trace sharp swerves The heat radiating from your nail beds Soothes my vision of all possible reds And i revel in your medicine i desperately need to heal Your ceramic skin is an effective insulator The blisters i give You only urge your loving to grow greater You don't seem to care that i don't have a handle to protect You from the scalding bitter tea That washes up at my rim like the sea No,You accept the imprint of my hellishly heated wounds onto You
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Apr 18, 2025
Apr 18, 2025 at 2:50 PM UTC
Eulogy for a God of a handle-less cup
A porcelain doll Shatters when she hits the floor Only shards are left So she mends herself again, Again, again, and again.
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Aug 1, 2024
Aug 1, 2024 at 9:30 PM UTC
kintsugi
I'm going places And nowhere good Leaving the neighbourhood Of blurry faces I'm going places Misunderstood I would stay, if I could I'm changing bases A lonely path Accompanied by me and myself Let out a laugh The past, they think know hell I'm losing grasp Spiralling straight into wonderland Why didn't they hold my hand? Topsy turvy My perspectives change I hurt me Fuelled by the pain Lurching, wandering, Perching, pondering On a cold, wet, porcelain throne Mixing, blending Fixing, mending Aimless, I push on, all alone.
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Oct 19, 2023
Oct 19, 2023 at 9:09 AM UTC
Destination X
my mother once had a porcelain teapot gilded with flowers and leaves, on my 12th birthday, i dropped it to the ground, and it shattered as it hit the floor some days i feel like that teapot glued back together but still missing some pieces weaker than i began but stronger than i ever will be again.
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Dec 1, 2020
Dec 1, 2020 at 1:25 AM UTC
my mom's teapot
a tea bag steeping diffusing in porcelain drink and be happy
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Aug 10, 2020
Aug 10, 2020 at 10:53 AM UTC
Tea time
Skin like porcelain Ivory, milk and honey Your kiss pacifies
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Aug 8, 2020
Aug 8, 2020 at 3:19 PM UTC
Soft
The porcelain shell of his, Hid his vulnerabilities As he went on to only find Cracks that expose him To the storms that Rage over the cracks. While the devil plays His trill with glee.
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Jul 29, 2020
Jul 29, 2020 at 5:27 AM UTC
...porcelain shells...
dancing on a moonless night the air is cold stars the only light a lacy white dress flowing with her movement is she porcelain or is she human a music box plays while she slowly spins her limbs held together with staples and pins sweet tinklings and chimes while she closes her eyes trapped in a hell a soft gentle demise winding down the music slows to staccato notes there is no flow just jerky beats eventually silence my hands reach for the key
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Jun 21, 2020
Jun 21, 2020 at 9:58 AM UTC
doll's demise
Do you see, grasp in the nowhere and nowhen the whole picture? Register the tedious highs, lows, widths and breadths before your private, iridologic rainbows? Like grasping the rims of “allness” on the path of a forest, letting yourself grow a vertigo, fragile and docile. Every, every time you meet up with a person, do you encompass in your grasp, mind’s eye, all they are, all they are, at that one very time? My vision dims out into dependence, when glasses leave, when the forest my attendance seeks in utter loneliness without my harmony with it weaved. I no longer have in survival advantage but it feels more than right to fall, give over, I give myself fragile, more just, and fit. In that vulnerability I can see more than a healthy eye can: Van Gogh’s work on my trees’ leaves. That is what all presences, forms and life’s skies are for: fragileness, undoneness, nothingness, reasonlessness
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Jun 14, 2020
Jun 14, 2020 at 6:56 PM UTC
Eye Crashed Yet Align
in my father's home tucked into a closet stands a lovely doll a dress that spilled over the edge of the armoire that she perched upon dimming light cast a soft twinkle in her eyes, a shimmer in her hair I yearned to be like her until her façade cracked and she looked like me
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May 6, 2020
May 6, 2020 at 8:06 AM UTC
Porcelain
she was a doll strung together with elastic and her skin was of the finest china smooth, crafted with the highest of care and not a scratch to disturb her perfection beneath her porcelain flesh are bones of malleable gold soft to the touch expensive truly, she was not just any collector's item.
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Apr 22, 2020
Apr 22, 2020 at 3:21 PM UTC
collector's item
The porcelain wind of the moon lifts it’s wings of mine to see the clouds, deserts and dreams of reality as one, the endless stories of the green and golden fields of painted starlight, the breath of unspoken songs in the conversation of eyes, too aerial to be held, as the rising, gentle wind through the leaves, and the hair of lovers in discovery of forests touched with mist, rising above the mountains, falling as the song of rain, they are rain dancers who see poetry as all, and all is water
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Mar 3, 2020
Mar 3, 2020 at 5:34 AM UTC
Raindancers
Porcelain begins to shatter These dolls we all know to well Looking past beyond the laughter There is a story to tell: Up on our shelves you eye us everyday You pull us down, you want to play Our bodies hit the floor In pieces, you don't want us anymore Porcelain put back together You aren't done playing yet Our skins stained, our clothes rags, tattered We still can never forget: In a corner catching dust You never ever cleaned us up We're left alone lying, traumatized Unwanted in your hungry eyes Porcelain isn't the better Our shards, they cut your hand And your feet, you should've never Played rough, do you understand? Fragile, you never handled us with care Our bodies break, our clothes you tear Now you're the one who bleeding We're thrown away, defeated
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Feb 24, 2020
Feb 24, 2020 at 9:00 PM UTC
Porcelain Dolls
I think smooth Soft White Porcelain stands up to much But one little crack sends it to the garbage Porcelain is strong Disguised as weak
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Dec 14, 2019
Dec 14, 2019 at 7:03 PM UTC
Porcelain
As though her skin was stained porcelain white She slipped back down from the sky cracked and marred Though every second of my gaze was wasted As in her final instance; before departure She was stained porcelain white
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Sep 15, 2019
Sep 15, 2019 at 2:10 AM UTC
Skin
I often wonder if I am but a teacup to your boils. Without me Where would you set your pinkie Where would you pour your cream Where else to discuss the “new mortality” but about my heated air?
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Jul 12, 2019
Jul 12, 2019 at 9:03 PM UTC
feeling porcelain blue
Strings around porcelain skin Bruises that are so thin Skin never grows Face never shows never feels Twirl can she ever
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May 21, 2019
May 21, 2019 at 12:02 PM UTC
Stringed Girl: Blackout Poetry Edition