#thisistheend
I’ve never felt more broken than I do in this moment.
They call me Hope but I am nothing if not a pile shattered glass scattered across thick blades of drying grass
Embedded in heaps of mud and piles of ****
Unfixable.
no glue is strong enough to hold me together if anyone is willing to go as deep as to pull the pieces from the vile mess beneath it.
No one.
Entire communities that I will never be part of because they’re owed better than me
An entire society that I don’t belong to because I’ll never be enough for it to accept me.
A whole life that I will never deserve.
They call me Hope…
I call me hope
because it’s the closest I’ll ever get to knowing any.
Feb 14, 2024
Feb 14, 2024 at 7:54 PM UTC
It use to be easy to love you,
I really wanted to hate you,
I use to be lost without you,
But I don’t know what I should feel for you.
You left me,
You came back.
It was the beginning of a pattern,
I accepted without question.
Then California came into your mind,
And I’d knew you’d leave one last time.
There was no coming back,
There was no goodbyes,
I laid in the corner of my bed and cried.
But you were gone,
You didn’t care.
The emptiness you left in me,
Grew into something more.
You cracked the foundation,
The foundation of me.
You stole my heart,
Out of my chest, and watched me bleed.
You said you loved me,
Claimed to care.
But when I really needed you,
You were never really there.
I was nothing to you.
Just a person for you to use.
You’re the devil in disguise,
You build your future on lies.
Your lies gave you a power.
And I fell for you in my weakest hour.
You built me up,
Just to toss me aside.
You assumed I was fragile,
And I will admit I was.
My remains were shattered,
Broken on the ground.
But I picked myself back up,
When you left town.
No I will never get the,
Pieces of me I gave to you freely.
I don’t want them back.
Keep them, trash them,
Put them on a shelf and stare,
I’m like the tin man,
With no heart,
So I don’t really f***ing care.
I rebuilt myself stronger,
Replaced my old brain,
Stole courage from a lion,
I roar now without pain.
It’s like clicking my heels,
And saying there’s no place like home,
I’ll leave my memories of you in a basket,
On the dirt road where we once started from.
This isn’t Kansas,
This isn’t Oz,
This is the rebellion of my long lost heart.
Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 1:01 AM UTC
You left the door open
for me to walk out
You shut your eyes
never to let me back in
Though i know not a part
Of your heart
is breakin'
hope you know you have all of mine
still
Comforting solace of reminiscence
resting at my window sill...
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 8:43 AM UTC
I wait in a line that seems endless
I look ahead only to see that the others are doing the same
The ground beneath my feet is marble, white with a blue shimmer,
Above me resembles that of a wood celling in a log cabin,
Behind me I meet the eyes of another waiter,
He quickly stands straight only to reveal another pair of eyes behind him,
There is a sound un recognizable in the distance and the line moves,
Though only a step, a sigh of relief, for there is much distance to travel,
The light comes and goes, with no observable source of light,
Looking right I see another step out of line,
Standing taller then the rest he heads my direction,
I ask as he passes "what do you see ahead of this line?"
He stares blankly then looks over the heads,
"Do you want the truth?" he asks,
I nod noticing that my personal space has grown smaller,
He points forwards then backwards and says,
"That is where you are going, and that is where you've been,"
"So at some point you'll reach where you're going?"
My space bubble expands with a hushed whimper,
It comes to mind that I should ask him one more question,
"Where are you headed then?"
He smiles, his teeth almost all gone,
"Why wait to know what I already can see"
"I plan to skip this line and find a new one on my own"
He waves as we part his tall figure an outline in the distance,
The line moves though I find myself still standing,
I am tapped on the shoulder and hear "May i skip you?"
I step aside no longer compliant with staying in line.
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 1:02 AM UTC
It's not that I believe it doesn't end.
Its just the angle- I cant see for the bend.
I've been walking this plastic corridor since
I pushed through the blackened door unwittingly.
And it's not that I'm longing to walk it with a friend.
I just hope that I make it out the other side fittingly.
Because what If I've grown
Much to large for my humanly confines?
And what if all I own
Is the rags on my back and a collection of fines?
Will I pass through the doors without interrogation?
Or be doomed to walking this squinted corridor
with nothing but a tireless and ever wasting patience?
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 7:36 AM UTC