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Grace Jordan Sep 2014
Have you ever just felt so lonely, even in a crowded room?

Have your insides ever felt so empty,like nothing fills them but air and blood and you are nothing but meat on a spinning ball in a dying universe?

Have you ever looked at the stars and realized gas can be so magnificent, yet you, conscious, synaptic you, cannot even make yourself special to one person whom you love?

Have you ever felt the benevolence of whatever power above you weighing so heavily on your shoulders, realizing they gave you life and one wrong move and you may be wasting it?

Have you ever realized time is so short, and in the blink of an eye, the toll of a clock, it could all be over and it could all begin and everything could be different in that one second?

Have you seen the look in your mother's eyes when you realize that she isn't wonder woman, and that she is as human as you, as terrified as you, and that illusion is gone and you both are broken and innocence is so lost you spend your whole life trying to find it again?

Have you stared into the face of death and came back kicking and screaming, terrified that the next one in that coffin will be you, and that your loved ones will be the broken ones now, or possibly worse, no one would have cared at all?

Have you ever died a little inside, seeing someone you pined for and had an intense affinity for live and laugh and love in the arms of another and you want to move on but you can't because you cannot let go of the simple maybe that they could make you feel that way one day too?

Have you ever felt the heavy weight of love crush your heart, and either **** you a thousand times or lift you up to the heavens, untouchable yet so breakable, and everything could be forever or fall apart at any moment, and when your naked in their arms and more vulnerable than ever the end could be near, even when they whisper they love you in the way their hands touch your cheek and their lips caress your skin?

Have you ever felt nothing, not even when you should, and could not find the tears or the words or anything really, and become a frozen shell of a human being that feels so alone, even in a crowded room?

I am not feeling all of these right now, but I have at least once before, and they all come rushing back to me like sad songs while I sit alone in a full room, musing about life and realizing though I may be ill, I'm still human too.
Olga Valerevna Feb 2015
you and I are made of something breakable and small
Reduced to what the masses say they cannot see at all
But when I let you in to me you're bigger than myself
You take up all the space I couldn't give to someone else
And down we go together - deeper faster, slower still
Remembering the moments we unraveled at our will
And all it took was one of us to make a move that day
Now look at where it's gotten us, we've fallen all the way
I still remember the day I fell for you.
For the Sparrows Aug 2013
Jon
I thought my heart was dead.
maybe it was his electric blue eyes
that brought it back to life.

He was a beautiful stranger.
A boy named Jean.

We met in the city,
A brand new chapter
We were both about to open

We were the new artists in town.

But why should he choose me?
I hated my heart for beating too loudly
Muffling my common sense
that a boy like Jean
wouldn't love a girl like me.

Small talk and short glances,
I was afraid to look into his eyes
They might've drowned me.

Stupid heart.
You wouldn't stand a chance.

And I was right.
One autumn afternoon
we studied history as friends
and he saw the most breakable part of me
Accidentally.

Only to find a few days later
He had already chosen someone else.

My heart began to crack again.

Will I always be vulnerable
to beautiful strangers,
Even if they become friends?
Last summer.
Dont treat me like glass
Because you think Im fragile
Treat me like glass
Because I am beautiful but breakable
Natasha Adorlee May 2010
Remembering one night in Shanghai. Feeling like all those love letters being rung dry after years cast out on the paper sea. So many pretty fishes, so many pretty words of ink, and those chattering night birds in the lumbering trees, that there's enough pretty to fill the holes of our modern sound. So pretty, all these precious things. So pretty are these breakable things.
Michael P Smith Mar 2013
Misty winds, perilous deeds,
smeltering sun, wandering needs,
easily breakable moments, brittle
as cold glass, empty heart within
why cant my insignificance pass,
deep sighs, strong murmurs, straining of
the pressure as my stress slowly hurdles,
red moon, blood-filled skies, daggers piercing
my eyes as the passion cries, When does it end?
Where do my thoughts lead? So vacant inside
myself I just proceed with greed, lost in the mind,
filled with heavy glitches, somebody pick me up
before i lose my britches, demons surround me
all the time, I truly need relief, a new lease on life,
no longer can handle the grief or pain from the strife,
God has my ticket, considered truly my spiritual guider,
trying to seek the light, the heavenly hole spreads wider,
my mind getting clearer, im delivered from the corrupt,
no longer deminished inside, released from fate so abrupt...

©Michael P. Smith
Sonam Ahuja Dec 2014
Kiss me like I am breakable
My peachy skin made of glass
Touch me like I am fading
Evanescent in the very stroke of your fingers

Hug me like I am a memory
Locked away somewhere deep in your heart
Burn me like a wild fire
My soul consumed but my scent lingers
Mira Rose May 2016
Sits Quiet On A Shelf.
So Fragile And Breakable.
Wishing To Stand and move.
Takes a Risk.
Standing and moving.
No More Red Lips And Rosy Cheeks.
No More More Fear.
No More Silent China Doll.
Batya Aug 2014
It hurts to put him first,
No matter the cost for you,
And to put yourself second
When you know he puts you there, too.

It hurts to come second,
Because he's your natural Number One,
But he's got a family who loves him-
And he's where you end up when you run.

It hurts because you'll never tell him that
Sometimes at night you flashback to crying alone,
In a room that doesn't feel like home,
And gluing yourself back together by morning.

It hurts because you're afraid
That what happened before will happen again,
That you'll need to be for someone else
What you yourself are still missing.

It hurts to come second,
And he never knew
How hard he'd have to try just
To keep from hurting you.

It hurts, and you'll probably never tell him
Because that's just not who you are,
And also because somewhere you know that
Who you're with is not the one who let you fall.

It hurts anyway.
It hurts coming second.
Write yourself some poetry,
Maybe learn a lesson:

Remember to be self- sufficient,
Because you're fragile and you're breakable;
And that that's your problem, not his,
And that as long as YOU have a choice-- choose him.

Remember that it's not so simple
When his Number Ones don't know you exist,
But what can you do, you feel like this
Because it hurts to come second.
miss keisha May 2017
if every day is just a struggle for another,
if every hope is only for a better tomorrow,

if every breath and every heartbeat rests only on the most breakable threads, on the false promise that the light is waiting at the far end rather than being just an illusion or a figment of imagination to ease our bearings

how can we say that being alive is still better than not?
Sally A Bayan Feb 2018
I do believe that, people's
breaking moments aren't spectacles,
to be watched like carousels in a carnival,
not free for all(s).....like publc seesaws
anyone rides....sees what comes and goes

my folks' words play in my mind, like a spell
"don't let your eyes stay wet too long, they swell,
one day, those tears will make you unconquerable
your fences and walls ultimately become impregnable."

...but.......there's a truth that's unavoidable
there're days when we're not that invincible
::::::::
sometimes, we melt, we flow
hurt by people's deeds, we don't even know
why.....the days, at times, become too cold,
confusing...other times, painfully bold
we break, we droop............we fall
we realize...we can't always be that tall
::::::::
we become...........frangible
just as breakable
just as fragile
as porcelain
......................................
because
we're human.


Sally


© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
August 8, 2017
Shannon McGovern Aug 2011
Like western ice melting and pooling into puddles
filled with crimson Caravaggio blood.
You moved your hands like I was something porcelain,
something breakable.
The sheets became giant waves filled with debris and pollution
crashing against sea glass and lime stone,
and you still thought I was something incredible,
something unreal.
The walls creaked and breathed while the room heated,
filled with secrets and Christmas lights
that dimly lit nothing but shadows and silhouettes,
and you still thought I was something crystal,
something beautiful.
The marks and scars and memories caught my throat
suffocating my face under layers of empty pages
and water stained notebooks,
and I thought I was something untouchable,
something tainted.
And you laughed and ground palm against cheek, mortar against pestle
and I smiled and thought you were something extraordinary,
something honest.
So more like snow dissolving
into the depths of bottomless oil wells, I blinked
and disappeared into something dangerous,
something wonderful,
something real.
Aaron LaLux Oct 2017
“Please be careful with my left ******.”,

her request comes with a clutching of my hair,
and a gentle yet firm pulling of my head,
away from her right breast,
and into the nape of her neck,

“Why?”,

I ask,
innocent enough,
as I settle into,
my repositioned position.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Of course I do,
that’s why I asked.”

“Well, I had a surgery last year,
I had a tumor in my breast,
and had to have a surgery,
it was actually quite risky and I’m lucky to be alive.”

“Oh.”

I reply.

When anyone says anything so intense and so real,
there is only one of two ways to truly respond,
either with an equal amount of intensity,
or with a mellow affirmation of unconditional acceptance,

I accept when,
she offers her Truth,
and I see that she is an old soul,
even though her body’s still in it’s youth,

you,
can judge if you want to,
I’m in my 30’s and she’s 22,
but honestly with Love there are no rules,

when love abruptly finds you,
at the intersection of two soul’s life’s paths,
particularly when the two souls are travelers,
specifically when those two travelers are traveling,
you have two options,
1.) ignore every instinct to embrace each other or,
2.) plunge head first in the type of leap of faith that only love knows,

I choose the latter,
later,
we find ourselves again,
flowing in a whirlpool of pheromones,

where I find myself,
with my hand upon her mouth,
holding her breath,
to the point of panic,

see I’d always found pleasure in pain,
I suppose it’s a form of perverse dominance,
but the truth is anytime anyone feels uncomfortable,
whatever you’re doing is the opposite of what romance is,

anyways,

just as she teeters on the brink of asphyxiation,
she tears my hand away,
not nearly as gently as she’d pulled my head away,
just a few hours earlier in the evening,

soon,
tears swell and break her eyelashed levees,
bathing her cheeks and my shoulders,
in the salty brine of past torments,

the storm went,
on for hours,
her sentiments the storm clouds,
my shoulder the conscious ground on which she showered,

or rather the conscience ground on which she showered,

finally,
I asked her,
why what I had done,
had caused such an effect,
I mean,
I know,
what I did was wrong,
but honestly this many tears I did not expect,

“Please,
tell me,
why so many tears,
is it what happened now or what happened in past years?”

She pauses,
takes a breath,
then continues,
where she’d earlier left,

“When I was ten,
I almost drowned,
my brother threw me in a pool,
I hit my head and became momentarily paralyzed.”,

her pair of eyes,
staring directly into mine,
I saw in that instant,
that as strong as she was/is/will be,
she is still just such a little girl,
so fragile and breakable,
as intelligent as she was/is/will be,
she is still learning and growing and,

I see how wrongly I’ve treated her,
I see how much she’s been through in the past,
and I want to apologize for everything,
I want to take every misguided action back,

she gave me her trust completely,
and I all did was stab her in the back,

and I want to take back every misguided action but I can’t,
because the past has passed,
so instead of trying to go back,
or give her misused excuses I answer the only way I can,

“I’m so sorry.”,

“I apologize,
on behalf of all men,
and I'm not asking for our memories to be forgot,
I'm just asking for our memories to be forgiven,

because memories are tricky things,
and we both have our own versions,
but either way one thing I can say definitely,
is consent isn’t meant to mean yes when it’s said through coercion,

so again I must say I apologize,
on behalf of all men I offer this apology,
I can’t even pretend my actions were justified,
please forgive us for we know not what we did and we’re sorry,

we messed up completely,
I accept that completely,
we deserve to be ridiculed and shamed,
we don't deserve you we lost you when we lost our dignity,

we fck up totally,
we didn’t know what else to do,
but what’s someone to do when they’re as lost as you,
and no this isn’t meant as an excuse it's just the truth,

because we both know that excuses,
just lead to more abuses,
so this not an exercise in excuses this is an honest apology,
this is exactly what the truth is,

and I don’t know what else to say,
other than I’ll never ever repeat those mistakes,
please the only thing worse than getting my heart broken,
is seeing I’m the cause of someone else’s heartbreak,

see we’ve all been through,
too much trauma it’s true,
see we’ve all been ignored and abused,
definitely you and yes even me too,”....

Me.
Too.

See when anyone says anything so intense and so real,
there is only one of two ways to truly respond,
either with an equal amount of intensity,
or with a mellow affirmation of unconditional acceptance,

and,

I.
Am.
So.
Sorry.

I’ve been entirely too rough with her,
subconsciously inflicting her,
with not so subtle hints of,
all the miseries I’ve been through,

she does not deserve this,
I do not deserve this we do not deserve this,
she/I/we deserve to be in love’s service,
not servants to a fake love that’s perverted and hurts us,

she deserves just,
to be treated of course
equally unconditionally,
with delicate care and support,

I deserve,
to be treated of course
equally unconditionally,
with delicate care and support,

I need to be a strong man,
not a scared little boy,
a real man treats females as strong women,
not as weak little toys,

I need to treat her exactly like I strong man should,
and return to feel her gratitude,
see true strength comes from a place of love,
hate is weak love is tough,

and we are tough enough to change our course,

and I apologize because everyone makes mistakes,
but not everyone admits them,
and that is the difference,
between a real man and a fake one,

there's not a single person out there,
that has not messed up,
so if you think someone's perfect,
they aren't they just haven't confessed yet.

You are too real with me,
for me to be fake with you,
and yeah we are all broken,
but help me fix me and I'll help you fix you.

We deserve to be presently in love,
without having to drag any of our past pains into this,
and when I think of how much I hurt you,
it makes me want to take a knife and slash my wrist,
makes my heart plummet and my stomach feels tight,
makes me want to throw myself up out of me I feel so sick,
makes me want to punch myself in the head,
makes me want to swim away never come back and cut off my d!ck,

makes me want to forget,
makes me want to drown out the memories with alcohol,
makes me want to take recreational drugs to try and forget,
because I don’t want to remember or recall,

I just want to cleanse myself of myself,
just fckn want to **** myself I'm so riddled with guilt,
but if I’ve seen my mistakes and am ready to correct them,
then what good is going to come from killing myself?

Because the ones that feel the least guilty,
are usually the ones that’ve caused the greatest crimes,
so instead of choosing death which would solve nothing,
I decide to correct my wrongs and choose life,

I decide to listen more,
to treat all women as Universal Sisters,
which brings me to the next chapter of this story,
where after she admits to me I admit to her,

see she admits,
of her flirt with death,
when she was ten,
and then it’s my turn to admit this,

“My little sister drowned,
when I was 12,
due to my abusive stepfather’s negligence,
she drowned five days before her first birthday.

The wings tattooed on my back,
are in honor of her,
for she is my Guardian Angel,
she keeps Death at my doorstep but does not let Him in,
even though He incessantly knocks,
and one day He’ll get his way,
I never want to hurt you again Love,
and in honor of my little sister that passed away,
and all of the women and girls including you,
I’m changing my ways,
and there’s no better time than now,
so I’m starting right now right here today.”.

Now it is her turn to respond,
still teary-eyed she turns to me and says,
“I’m so sorry,
and thank you.”

“It’s okay my stepdad was a horrible man,
and my little sister is probably better off on the other side,
I’m sure I’ll be seeing her soon anyways,
plus I saw a rainbow above when she died,
and I took the rainbow above when she passed,
as a good omen and a good sign.”,

the tears finally recede,
and the smiles come like rainbows after a hard rain,
see the truth is all this we live is poetry,
see sometimes to feel joy we need to first feel pain,

relating to someone else’s pain is all we really need,
to not feel so bad though it is somewhat sad,
that human experience experiences so much sadness,
and must have such a painfully poetic path.

It is a miracle,
that after all her and I have been through,
after the damage that’s been done to us,
including both of us being sexually abused,
that we are even able to trust at all,
and not just to trust but to love at all,
to let down our walls,
and to feel anything at all,

honestly,
so many have just turned off,
and the fact that we are still on,
and we are in love is a testimony,
to the overcoming power of love,
to the healing power of love,
and to the graces of unconditional acceptance,

I accept her,
and all of her scars,
unconditionally,
and we will work together to build a better tomorrow,

and she accepts me,
and all of my scars,
unconditionally,
and we will work together to build a better tomorrow.

There's a world of hurt out there,
and we all have something to say just need a platform,
so find someone out there that needs some help,
and show them some unconditional support.

The world is not perfect,
and neither are we,
but the world is beautiful,
and so too are we,

so we ride into the future’s unknown,
grateful for the lessons that help us grow,
and we appreciate our moments here together,
because we both know all too well that everybody goes,

so,

find someone to love,
and please be gentle,
and remember to be kind and touch with care,
whether it's the heart the soul or the ******,

let's be kind,
and also be strong,
and let's embrace these moments,
before we're both forever gone...

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

author/poet/human
In Solidarity
Noa Adler Sep 2020
I adore the crispness of an apple,
Thin, breakable skin
Encasing **** flesh,
Hiding danger in small doses.
Its dewy, red skin,
Could ****** anyone -
From Eve to Snow-White.
A bite and you're done for.
It's a dangerous fruit
To get from a stranger.
A witch in disguise,
An old lady,
Or God.

But you?
You didn't offer me apples.
You offered a single pomegranate,
Hard to crack open,
But hides dozens of nectar-filled seeds.
A single one won't do the trick,
So why not have some?
Just a little.

You?
You opened it,
Wide and inviting,
And watched me get
Addicted to the unsuspected,
To the soft and juicy insides.

You?
You watched me count the seeds,
Almost obsessing over
The delicateness of each one.
Blessing you,
Praising you,
Before biting into one seed,
Or two,
Or a dozen,
Or ten thousand.

And I?
I followed the pomegranate's many, many seeds
Feeding and feasting
Right from your hands.
Finding pleasure in the poison,
Innocently falling captive,
Taking the bait,
As you march me straight to hell.

It was too late when I realized,
Apples are for witches,
Pomegranates are for worse.
Deanna M Reeder Mar 2016
"I hope we last. I hope we do.

But if we don't, this is how I want you to remember me:

I want you to remember me curled up, listening to the sound of your heartbeat and tracing maps across your skin. Remember me laughing at your jokes even the stupid ones. Remember me in hysterics for absolutely no reason and in tears because one time you made me so sad neither of us thought I'd recover. Remember me brave, that time you held my hand and I thought I was going to die; remember me scared and gentle and delicate and breakable - only for you though, only for you.

Remember me happy, and all the ridiculous ways I tried to get your attention. Remember the way I was too stubborn to talk to you and how absolutely insane it drove both of us.
Remember all the firsts and how they were so delightful we went back for seconds and thirds and fourths. Remember the songs you couldn't stop listening to and the childish dreams you allowed yourself about the future. If it's any consolation I allowed myself to have them too.

If it comes to it I don't want you to remember the ending.

Remember the beginning. Remember the first time you knew."
Chameleon Nov 2018
I had my first day where I didn't miss him.
I even started to question why I liked him so much in the first place.
I had my first day where if he had texted and begged for me back I wouldn't go.
I think I fell for the *******, the fake romance he displayed.
Now sitting down and having a deep talk makes me roll my eyes.
I don't want that anymore.
I'd rather have someone be brutally honest, and speak their mind all the time.
Stop being afraid to hurt my feelings, I'm not that breakable.
**** mystery, it's stupid.
It's rude to take so much of someone's time by making your life a riddle.
Get out from under the bridge you ******' troll.
Susan O'Reilly Mar 2014
I'm a museum piece

locked away

encased in glass

breakable

sign says "Do Not Touch"

ignore it please

set me free

from my captivity

I've built this cage

caused by impotent rage

walls built up over time

protection from everyone and everything

I'm rusting away

looking pristine externally

but not internally

break through my reserve

I'm begging you
Myra Apr 2015
I see us on a stage, singing songs from the heart
But this vision is not from memory,
Only a wish from where those songs could be sung from
Like birds, we rest on such skinny legs
It's amazing how breakable we could be if we put pressure on them
But if we fly, if we soar, and lift from the ground..
Those so-fragile legs will never break or be bound
Some people want to live like birds,
They want to soar, fly, and glide...
But if you're too busy flying and looking down...
You can't enjoy the sun's setting or rise.
A reminder to stay humble...you'll miss out on the little things in life that matter most
raðljóst Sep 2013
It is incredibly fragile.
More like a web of hair winding through the city
Than a spider’s web that bounces back.
Electric current run through my veins; support me.
More moved to soak in the sun than taste the flow of a water-dam or take in the scent of a coal-burner.
Knock it down,
Down and out with the lights they go black.
They cannot see, cannot search.
Their voices throw complaints at this power-gone-out,
But I laugh.
Reading with the light of the still-rising sun I smile behind the safety of my book.
I do not need to be recharged,
I’ve got the power of the sun to bring me to stand.
They’ve got themselves depending on breakable things,
Leaning on a dry branch as if it would hold them up as long as they need,
Don’t know that a dry thing will snap if you push it too much.
How easy it would be to bring down a place like this,
All strung together, their failing crutch.
Must be in sync.
Must be connected.
But don’t they know?
Connection disconnects when a sacrificial tree topples and their circuit ceases to exist.
Their power cannot reach their devices and their shoulders fall.
Does anyone have a generator to bring them back to life?
And why won’t they regenerate when the lines are cut?
Come back to life,
Find your power in the sun.
not sure how to end it yet, kind of lost focus because the "bell rang", as in, school was over and I had to pack up and go, but I'll be getting back to this pretty soon once I do a bunch of Italian because I really don't want to get behind in that.
Sky Mar 2015
Wishing on an eyelash, on
a star, on
a candle
Wishing on fragility
A breakable thing, a
fly-away thing, a
blow-out thing
Wishing for a dream, a
promise, a
love
Wishing for for better things,
Impossible things,
fairy wings,
magic
Wishing is fragile,
breakable,
something to be lost,
Floating
Wishing is hoping,
and hope is
what saves us
Joey Zimmerman Dec 2010
Who do you think about when you *******?
Crazy blonde *****
***** girls
Girls you can’t have
With ***** stamps
Really hot but uncomfortable looking *******
Ankles behind ears
These un-breakable girls
How they howl and moan
Showing that you are the ultimate dominator

That’d be nice but…

Who do you love?
Timid brunette
Loves Christianity and her family
You can have her if you show her
Not an autographed copy of your heart
But the real thing
She has no tattoos but her pierced belly button
Is cute enough for me
This girl is breakable
Fragile, handle with care
And I will be careful
Chelsea Perras Jul 2014
Alone again in this unknown world
conjured by the devil
as he eats away my humanity and soul,
again he stomps on the breakable
instead of the un-bearable
he lives within me
he left me behind so they devil found me.
im alone and afraid with no power
i feel suicidal and dream of the scars
the tears in people hearts
the success of me gone,
the tragic thought and sight
of him finding me covered in blood
the gashes and holes on my body.
the peace i left felt when i was gone
i like to believe I'm not afraid to go
more afraid of hurting the ones I love
when the time come I'll go live in peace
but for know survive this hell
that im forever trapped in.
Alexis Oct 2014
That emptiness creeps in,
I am alone.
Your mouth is moving,
But I can't hear anything but:

"..using me.."
He says.

"..using me.."

I am so breakable.
You're only speaking in,
Hypotheticals.
Is it this easy?
Disappointment in myself,
Is overwhelming.
When did I give you the power,
To break me?

It's too late.
I've already let you past the gates.
Infiltrated.
You know it all and,
I can't go back now.
I can't go back.
I don't want to,
And I don't know how.
This life is meaningless,
Without you in it now.

Don't walk away,
Don't shut me out.
Wanting you is the only thing,
This was ever about.

But one day you will not remember.
One day you will walk away.
Michael Marchese Jun 2016
I write still to show
The flaws I've corrected
Before I must go
Here's some I've perfected

I’m breakable bones
My weakness is real
You can crush them with stones
But my spirit is steel

I've howled depressions
With lone wolf confide
I've roared at oppressions
With lion king pride

I rose unforgiving
From indifferent graves
To haunt those unliving
As apathy's slaves

I council with silence
Keep quiet rapport
With deafening violence
Of thoughts waging war

I’m pop country's menace
Funk you profanity
Spit-venom vengeance
And breakdowns of sanity

I’ve sung innuendos
Love's chorus revised
By symphonic crescendos
Two beats harmonized

I’ll never stop trying
To save this blue sphere
Our mother is crying
Apocalypse tears

I move hyperactive
My sprinting brain sped
Beyond the distractive
Outrunning my dread

I’m tempests emerging
Typhoons kept at bay
And now my storm surging
Will blow you away

I’ve fearlessly gazed
Upon Grim's complexion
The hell that was raised
Was just my reflection

I channel my hate
As my anger stream grows
Into rivers irate
Then tranquility flows

I form nations in clouds
Above law and border
No star-spangled shrouds
In my higher world order

I’m heat-seeker lines
Poetic napalms
Metaphor landmines
And ticking rhyme bombs

I've warped my perceptions
And force-choking grips  
And Death Star conceptions
From jedi mind trips

And I’ll leave you assured
My crusade will not yield
Until peace is ensured
And these wounds have all healed
Incurred as the ward
Of my muses concealed
Now commanding a horde
Of the furies revealed
I have severed accord
With the fates I have sealed
  I've matured and endured
On this life battlefield
With this pen as my sword
And this pain as my shield
For I am the lord
Of the words that I wield
Ofelia Rose Mar 2015
In lieu of all that happens in life
I find happiness in your mind
I'm reminded of all that is good
When you're there by my side
I know that when I know you
You fill me with a love I never knew
And strengthen me into a woman
Whom could never be without you
He is within my heart that seeks
My mind is opened to all that is
With Him I find all the treasures
I had searched for in my flesh
And my life sees all that I am
Without You I am only porcelain
A doll breakable by the touch
However I cling to you for strength
Where I find all my dreams a reality
You give me every fantasy I longed
And You give me the life i desired
With this I fall to my bruised knees
Praising the beauty you've granted
Pen Lux Jul 2010
All the coins in your pockets,
everything I've ever given you.
in the washer
in the dryer
burning in the back yard,
like those notes,
and the pictures.
subconscious attempts to hurt you
the attempts of escaping everyone else: equally beautiful
until you looked away.

Don’t leave things alone for too long
or they'll begin to rot.
It took three years for you to give up,
and now your over bite clenches onto your bottom lip.
It looks painful,
but you're always so calm.

I can never tell where you are.

I feel ridiculous asking you questions
that I already know the answers to,
but I can't help it:
I love to hear your voice.

When you came home drenched,
spinning dizzy,
you laid down as I gazed at the wreck that laid before me.
You were in another world, and I didn’t want to follow.
Your golden feet could take you anywhere your heart imagined.
(I guess that was part of the jealously).

I want you to tell me about your childhood,
learn what made you the way you are.

Back to the photographs:
You looked so fragile,
so small, (breakable).

When I saw you cry for the first time,
the comfort in your grasp gave me the confidence
not to panic.
I stared at the bruises on your body,
knowing they would never heal,
knowing that you liked it that way.

I know you never understood how special you were,
that you never would.
I was scared of the things I knew,

I knew I had to leave
before you woke up, and,
walking with the faint shadow
of sleep behind my ears,
itching at my scalp
from the inside:
I took notice of your car,
and the bird **** on your windshield
                                                   reminded me that we were the same.
Moriah Jean Jan 2011
My life made sense before
You.
I was happy without you.
I was happy alone.

Nothing makes sense now.
Nothing.at.all.

Now I feel like something
is
missing.

Now --
My bed feels empty,
And my phone seems too quiet,
And I'm always angry,
And everything looks breakable.

But,
Not as breakable as me.

My bones are glass and,
My skin is tissue paper.
I'm crinkled and torn...
And these cuts hurt the worst.

I don't think I would feel quite so
empty,
If I never felt
whole.
I wouldn't feel so
invisable,
If I'd never been
seen.
I wouldn't feel so
fragile,
If I'd never been
saved.

So thanks for that.

Remember when I could stand on my own?
I was so **** good at it.
I was strong.
I was intrepid.
I was ******* untouchable.
I guess we all have our weaknesses...
Mine was a perfect smile,
And eyes that could shoot me all the way to the moon and back.

Life before you made sense.
Life with you made sense.
Life after you isn't even worth mentioning.
© January 6th, 2011 Moriah Jean

For Andrew --
Btw, ithinkyou'reafuckingcoward.
<3
Hurling curses everywhere,
pitchforks and pistols in everyhand.
The price for silence
flirted with moral opulence.
The minted paper lollipops
credited our hungry accounts;
whilst our future sold in the markets
and our groins thrown in the caskets.
Change is not a criteria to progress
because it is a slutty variable.
Honesty is not a key to political prowess
because it is transparently breakable.
Let the feet do the talking
and the mouth do the standing.
Claire Waters Aug 2013
i don't think that you know
what privacy means to me
i'm staying drunk in the quiet
of my safe liturgy

of thoughts because concepts
are honest and curious
they aren't gonna judge me
and that's what i need
some company with peace

but inside them i'm violent
i'm rough to the touch
i try to be silent
so i'm not caught searching
the corners for love

when every house party is about
"that idiot who said" or her "stupid makeup"
so i'm not sure where i expect to find
any sort of understanding
in these social engagements
i don't see meaning in
ripping down others just for being
in the same room as you
and minding their own business
it always makes me uncomfortable
i don't see the usefulness knowing it's
easier to call someone else useless
when you feel so

and draw your own conclusions
than admit you don't really know
it's easier to stab the surface
than to learn someone's breathing well enough
to understand the way their blood flows
it's easier to make a snarky comment on their clothes
than to sit down and get to know them

so admit it
our darkness thrives on judgement
and you will feel so much better
because once you let go of them
emotions flow through you like weather
extend your arms for once
and realize that every single person you know
knows something you don't understand yet
instead of barraging them with
the ways you wish you were better

you thought i was going
to say they weren't you

because everyone's partial
to weak knees and weak ankles
it's easier to strike the person
who opens their arms to you
even once is enough
to break them because you justify
they allow themselves to be
so breakable

and though i feel these things to be true in my gut
and want to validate every single person
i can see needs the love
i'm in need of my own breed of saving
and i'm sick of this negative engaging

i just don't have any more chances
to be so kind
as to offer you
a target
Alice Nov 2010
i cut out paper figures from the sky, from the sea

string them together like little beads

then rip them, tear them apart

like the ventricles of a breaking heart

i take them away, let them learn

then crumple them, or let them return

to ****** them at each other once again

bang, bang, together, bang, bang, the end

i shatter them, explode, bright like dying stars

watch them limp on with battle scars

then throw them to every corner of the Earth

to wander, wondering what they are worth

what could have beens

should have beens

would have beens

bang, bang, together, bang, bang, like shins

i make them talk, talk in tongues

that take up time, but waste their lungs

they speak in words, but they are bluffing

they are the voice, the voice of nothing

and still they walk, gasping for air

searching for a hand to tangle in theirs

tangle them, tangle them up

bang, bang, together, bang, bang, to dust

paper figures, paper hands

with paper skin, paper dance

and paper hearts, all alone

just piles of paper, piles of bones

to be recycled, back to the stars

to play again, play their parts

to leave once more, unpaid but well played

bang, bang, together, bang, bang, they fade

i crumple them, crease their flesh

make them wear a wrinkled dress

to show their beauty, hide their pain

hide and seek, the name of the game

i cut them loose, they drop their useless tongues

throw mortal blether to the wind, fill their winded lungs

paper, breakable, tearable, terrible

bang, bang, together, bang, bang, forever
© Jenna A. 11/25/2010
Sam Oct 2018
Maybe,
            you’re still visible.

When you smile, just wide enough, bright, and --
your eyes glaze over, just a little. ever-present, the red-rimmed edges.
Your posture is good form. Back straight, shoulders pulled, and -- rigid.
too rigid. so when was the last time you let down your guard?

You seem perfect, darling - you seem fine.
except the moments that you freeze, stuck still, can’t move,
when no one’s looking.


Because the people who would have noticed you --
who would have seen you,
                                                  Did see you,
falling apart at the seems,
hands shaking and gulping unsteady breaths,
head spinning when the world wasn’t
desperately alone and wanting not to be --

                                                         ­    Are gone. Again.
                                                         ­                               There’s no one there.

Months ago, almost a year now, they found you.
{Your soon to be, family, of 9 friends.}
Not impressive in the least,
                          almost completely faded into the wallpaper,
                                             utterly breakable, utterly close to broken,
                                                         ­                                         utterly alone.
And they gave you
                                    hands,
                                                   stories,
                                                                ­   lifelines,
                                                                ­                     and hugs.
Resumed you back, to a more bearable way of living.
                                                    ­ And you were so, so,
desperate -- so you
stayed, against your better judgement --
you watched, and you learned.
                         How to hide things, your secrets.
                         How to lie, and do it brilliantly -- always only to protect.
                         How to fake being fine:
                           trying to hide tear tracks? -
                                 rub your eyes with cold water, just say you’re tired
                                 (it’s always true)
                           make other people believe you? -
                                 lie by omission, and avoid the word fine
                                 (use synonyms)
                           panic attacks? -
                                learn your signs, nearest places no one will go, and when
                                 (and walk, then
run)
                            who to trust? -
                               the ones who stick close. the ones too much like you.
                               (the ones who see
you, always, visible or not.)
but also:
How to let other people orbit around you, and not just orbit them.
How to throw caution to the wind and say,
I love you, permanent or not.
How
nothing lasts (but you knew that), but
sometimes, somethings, are still worth it.
And how to breathe again, a little bit more easily,
bit more like you used to be able to.


It falls apart spectacularly (the kindest way imaginable), with
goodbyes,
        i love yous,
              i’ll miss yous,
                        stay in touch,
                                 a plethora
of hugs (you used to flinch away from).

And being alone is so
hard -- however did you stand it?
there’s a gaping ache, of loneliness,
                                                               l­onging,

                                      of missing, in your chest, you can’t quite identify --

you just want a hug,
                                       someone’s arms around your shoulders just to
ground you,
Just a laugh, or a smile; a friendly face,
just someone, just anyone --
                                                         ­       your closest lifeline lives sixthousandsevenhundredandeighty
                            ­                                    kilometers away.

it’s one of your further away friends, who tells you,
If you feel homesick, you know, that makes sense
Like it’s the most natural thing in the world

                                                              It makes the air around you go still,
                                                                ­               makes your breath pause.
you thought home was a place.
and if home was a place, well,
you’d never have one.
                                                  so however did you end up
                                                 with nine, whole, pieces of it?

                                                with something like a family,
                                              even if you can’t say it aloud?

So that’s why
           There’s a constant, thin, circle of red, around your eyes,
           Why you’ve once again forgotten how to trust,
           Why you’ll stare off into the distance, just for a beat,
     your stream of conscious
                 I miss you I miss you I love you I miss you
                     brought back up to the surface.
But it’s also:
Staying inside when it rains, and pours,
not going out and getting drenched
because you want a tangible reason to feel miserable;
Actively trying to sleep, at halfway decent hours,
because maybe, you can.
because you might be an insomniac, but
you never tried to stop it;
And eating, whole, actual, proper, meals,
no longer skipping, because it may taste like nothing
but there’s no longer the nausea.
A few steps in the right direction, perhaps.

You have so many self-destructive tendencies; habits, now,
  and no one but you to stop them.
and it would be so much easier, to not.
to let them all devour you, because
                                                                ­ you’re not all that terrified of them
and you should be.

So instead, you’re trying. Your damndest.
                                                      ­            Because your friends taught you,
how to piece yourself back together,
and to try to keep living.
and you owe them enough, to do your utmost,
to keep yourself as intact as you possibly can.

You aren’t great, and
You aren’t fine,
despite a passable impression.
                         You’re alright,
                                                Because, you’re trying,
I miss you, I love you, I miss you, I miss you
                                                And, slowly, you’re getting there,
Maybe, someday, you can make yourself visible again.
                                                         ­                                        Homesick, or not.
         you’re alright.


         You’re alright.
I never knew you could miss someone so much, that you'd do just about anything to see them again.

— The End —