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matt Oct 2014
I’m not sure if I’m fixable. i feel hollow and ill fall over crumble into ruble. while the picture isn’t perfect its a start of a piece art. sometimes the world ***** and **** when its bad and it makes you mad and you’ve had too much **** thrown your way pen and paper come to play. the pen may write the words but remember excalibur is only a sword and without a grip on the handle it can fight no foe and win no war. i feel down and i want to tag out in the last round or take a dive in round five but **** it pain is on my brain and with this much i can take a little more. I’m not sure if I’m fixable but then again nobody else in the discount section is whole anyways right?
Michelle Lynne Sep 2013
To be a human being is to be riddled with thousands of imperfections.
Full of flaws; scrapes, spots, and scars cover broken and bruised skin.
But robots need not fear and fret about fixable, trivial defections.

Humans perpetually throw themselves at cold, apathetic, greedy clinicians
Only to be given terrible news and told there is no cure for a horrid death.
Meanwhile, robots bask in the glow of love from a passionate technician.

Humans can never agree when it comes to the dealings of the heart.
Always one-sided, they take turns ruthlessly destroying each other.
Robots, oblivious to the issues of any and all feeling, live freely.

Naive humans will work tirelessly, only to see nothing but certain failure,
But life has never once benefited those of us who are currently living.
So, humans crafted robots, to always succeed where they could not.
Kay Jul 2014
have you ever broken something and tried to put it back together?

you usually can't find every single piece

but you glue the bigger pieces together

it's not perfect but it doesn't look half bad

most people won't notice it's broken unless they look hard enough

and that's kind of how it was after you left

I was like a broken vase that you dropped on purpose

it may have taken 6 months for me to put most of the pieces back together

and I'm still missing some

but only a couple people had to look hard enough to notice such sadness in my eyes

and everytime I see the half broken vase in my hallway I smile

because even though it's missing some pieces it still stands

it may not be perfect but it's fixable

And it gives me hope that maybe one day I'll be okay

without you,
the missing piece
I wrote this a while ago.
Bailey May 2016
Our Father, which art now on Earth, I am here today to introduce you to one of the most faultless ideas that Man has ever come up with: Public High School. I will be your personal tour guide while you experience the magic of learning just as any other student would.
To start your day, you’ll wake up at five in the morning (due to the start times that are framed and super-glued to the walls of the District Office). You should spend most of your time trying to look presentable for your schoolmates. If you’re late and forget to do something, it’s easily fixable. For instance, if you can’t find the time within those two hours to brush your teeth--no problem! Just ask every living soul and their mother if they have any gum.
When you get on the bus, choose a seat in the middle. That way you don’t risk inhaling the tobacco in the back or a friendly conversation with the bus driver. If you see a friend, talk to them really loudly and excitedly, but not next to them! Always in the seat across from them (so the other kids have to sit next to strangers).
At school, we’ll weave through the teenage islands in the hallways and walk to first period. Make sure your first period is an easy subject, because at seven a.m., you’re lucky to get the date correct.
Down this hallway we see some testosterone pumped scholars congratulating each other on which estrogen-laced student they managed to have ******* with. To the left of them you’ll notice a shunned pregnant girl. Don’t talk to her. You should always remember that in high school, it is disgraceful to reproduce after having ***, never mind what the mandatory health classes say.
We finally get to first period to sit down in our graffitied, gum littered seat, and open the textbook---whereon the most heterosexual boys have educated us on the male anatomy. Your teacher is Mr. Anderson, whom all of the children hate because of his politically incorrect and harsh comments. I realize that you created him but really, don’t try to have him fired; he’s got a tenure hanging above his head.
After three classes of lectures and forbidden whispers, it’s mid morning and lunchtime. You’re lucky you own all of the food on your green Earth because if not, you’d have to choose from five different freezer-burned, reheated dishes. Time to scrutinize your identity and decide where to sit. You’re not even a being... well the floor isn’t so bad.
After six hours of violently trying to hang on to the Quadratic Formula, and not Grace's new relationship status, you can get back onto the thoughtfully engineered school bus and involuntarily listen to the sins of the weekend before, until you get home.
Thank you for visiting a little piece of heaven on earth. You’re one day closer to college!
satire is the best
Gwen Johnson Sep 2015
I used to be afraid of picking up broken pieces
For a fear of getting hurt
But now it's an obsession
I observe the sharp edges
Run my fingers across jagged points
If I bleed I hope it might act like glue
I want to mend the broken pieces
Because I'm broken too
And maybe if I fix this
I can be fixed too
Reece Jun 2013
Its lost in transient ideals
The vivid colours in changing scopes
- and the doors are all open
Its broken but fixable
Your system I mean
- Its corrosive

(Two men on a brick wall, blowing halted tunes through old whistles)

And the country is talking aloud
You can't complain that nobody listens

Wailing sirens in the dusk sky, saddened, non satiata
Will you trust these sounds at such volumes
It's deafening, the city when it cries
When she cries, when the city dies
When the government lies
When the government lies
- because they do lie
All of them
Dani Jan 2013
I’m paranoid that I’m being watched every second of everyday,
I’m paranoid that people can hear every word I say,
I’m paranoid that when someone likes me,
it’s fake,
and I’m paranoid that they’re all gonna leave one day.
I’m paranoid that I’m gonna die in my sleep.
I’m paranoid that everyone wants me dead.
I question every little thing if it’s reality,
or if it’s a lie that got out of hand.
I'm paranoid to talk to people in fear of rejection,
I’m paranoid to fall in love.
I might seem strong on the outside,
but my mind is just jumbled up lyrics that don’t make a song,
and thoughts that just keep echoing on and on,
life is a nightmare,
death is a dream,
because I’m scared things are not what they seem.
I want to open up my brain,
see what’s inside,
see if I really am out of mind.
What makes me tick,
what made my thoughts sick,
am I fixable,
or just a test of time,
will I get worse,
will I get better,
will my thoughts be forever jumbled together.
I want to know what makes us think what we do,
what controls our feelings,
our minds,
and holds them correctly like glue.
What fell out of place,
what happened in that empty space,
that our minds now fill with jumbled thoughts and different perceptions.
I want to fix me,
I want to know what I really am,
without these horrible thoughts haunting me,
taunting me,
without all the things that make me paranoid.
Alicia De Smet Jul 2016
I always thought I was the only one protecting my heart with these walls
But what I saw that thursday made me rethink everything I ever thought of you
For the very first time, you looked vulnurable
like you wanted to hold me
just one last time
knowing that it was the last chance for us to speak up
and simply being honest with each other
But guess what?
We didn't
You just let me walk away from you
knowing that I was moving so far away
I always thought you just used me
while I really felt something for you
It was hard in the beginning
pretending like I just wanted your body
But I was happy with everything you gave me
even if your heart was like a vault
I surrounded my heart with these thick walls
guarding it, protecting it
Because if I ever was to love like I still love you
My heart would be broken
not fixable with glue
I hope I'll ever be able to love someone as much as I loved him,
and that I eventually can get him of my mind.
Jude kyrie Jul 2018
The man was distraught.
that she could clearly see.
The pretty young doctor
sat quietly behind her desk
as the man explained
his systems to her. In detail.

you see doctor
i **** all the time.
i mean wherever I am
In church at the movies
on a date in my office
everywhere
I have no control over the farts

he was almost weeping.
but be said there is one blessing.
they are silent and do not smell.
in fact I just dropped one now.
doctor. You have to help me.

she nodded in sympathy.
look it's fixable she said reassuringly .
take two of these pills
four times a day with food.
and come back to see me in a week.

five days later the man returned
in an awful state,totally distraught.
*** *** *** he wept.
whats the matter she asked.

those pills you gave me made it worse.
when I **** now it stenches
like a stagnant swamp.
You got to help me.

The young woman
smiled and said that's great.
we have fixed your nose.
now.
Lets work on those ears.

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Hal Loyd Denton Feb 2013
Restoration

I found myself in a desert the sun beat down relentlessly you see I was just one more fool living on the
Devil’s life plan he comes and sizes you up watches with intensity not of care but hate he doesn’t take
Long he has seen the same thing multiplied many times before he does a little razz and dazzle if you
Could have seen my face you would know how appealing it was oh that’s right you got the same
Treatment you see this desert is where he houses all of his captives it’s so wide and vast the thought is
Who’s trapped but we are like the icy ice berg but with us it’s the conscious like the tip then the
Subconscious is all that mass the true awe and power of being human I want to insert two pieces I wrote
That deals with the subconscious I believe you will benefit from them just one more person’s thoughts
On Such a grand subject
Piercing the Inner Sanctum
The trivial the less important will never even get a start into the bastion of peace and well being that is
Sacred and defended to the last breath the one irresistible caller that is never barred and who is as a
Master key is beauty to no avail can you post guards loveliness has no comparisons like spectacle in any
And all forms it governs and rules all of our hearts once seen the invitation is never with drawn like the
Vistas seen from a high mountain incomparable glory is touched sequestered in depths of appreciation
Moments of grandeur with this spell compression is ultimate the thick richness slowly sinks beyond all
Comprehension it will linger for a life time the blues are the high honor of dress befitting a person of
Rare quality to have and squander cherished gifts the emptiness can never be measured but to make
Contact with the sublime on a desert plane the one invaluable gift of solitude no pretense or frivolity
To cause error or a missed chance to speak and hear wonders undeniable voice that is attended by rare
Essences of tranquility that robes itself in splendor it beckons in pure language simplicity that astounds
Bewilderment of the highest order lodges in your soul the hush of holy beings are noticed if only by the
Assured peace that builds a walled fortress nothing can assail these attainments visited and began
By The unutterable beauty that moves with conscious and deliberate design to bestow upon you
The Perfection that once ruled in Eden

Now deeper the mind seeks to find the way where all rules are absent

Bedazzled Dreamer
Put the long boat in the deep waters of the mind the calm peaceful knowing all is glowing we glide not
Knowing where were going the subconscious will be our guide dividing the two worlds the quiet
Submersible is wild anything may be floating in these depths we have left shore far behind truly
We have entered unchartered waters there is no fixable Bering a lustiness takes over there is no helm
Just a pervading looseness not unsettling but truly uncharacteristic for the coconscious must always
Have a grip a grasp of what is where it is and every detail must be quantified now all senses are blown
A storm is brewing its far reaches unknown but there is softness that excludes fear the overriding
Thought is possibilities can be forged maximized eternalized thoughts are ghost like unknown entities
They were formally known but now remain a mystery dislodged from thought bases that are not solid
All is free association tantalizing in one sense then disconcerting in another what do I do with my mind
Surly it has jumped off the track I could be bewildered if I could get a hold on the situation free flowing
Unspoken but still distinctively saying volumes where is the slow button reams voluminous thoughts
Are spewing into nothingness being lost I can’t keep up the discernible is mixed with eons and theorems
Time and space is void of meaning the world here is elastic mass it convulses at will no parameters exist
The only thing constant is high velocity change being in one place is impossible all is jumbled who stirred
This caldron in my mind voice and pure thought are the same think it know it what burdensome lives we
Live when it is all a tattered sail on rough seas we behold nothing know nothing in the extreme
Romanticism blurts out sail for Trafalgar we are strangers in a plush gifted void try as we will there is
No simple answers but we are a simple people truly the only time were are fit is when we are
Sound Asleep well then sleep on and I will do the same dreaming is therapeutic just think how
Crazy we would be without it

So with that small insight this is more truth I signed my life away to the devil and here is the fun
Part it’s like your hardly comfortable on a computer your on this small frame here he is on a
Worldwide super computer and he is a **** like no other you are slowly crawling along he is
Miles Ahead of you try to strike order in life this answer comes back it has been high jacked its
Not even your thoughts any more it’s completely contrary to all that is decent and ideal but it
Comes as a fog it creates a state of disinformation this is how we find we are bound in half truths
In this state how far from love how desperate is our circumstances what caused and allowed
Us to be left to the dry treacherous land of being forgotten misplaced without remedy to know the dark
Embrace of loneliness we are a people of language it finds us it speaks health to our inward being it is
The gentle soothing the spell that alone provides the structure the melodious times hear the flow of
Refreshing water from hidden springs they bend at just the right place they find us where dark
Broodings Are pulling us into compromise and ruin we feel and taste the surety of joy the call of
Assuredness is known in these depths this internal dismay of mazes infernal are their crushing blows
Does it wash away the meaningful is the face of grace seen to be drowning in walled in terrain to high to
Climb to understanding that enlightening that is our very humanness our ability to connect to share
Never forgetting who and where we came from the integral foundation that builds us as a people was
This first dislodging the first steps of chaos the hardness that drives and separates to quickly we are
Adrift and at the stern is ego without measure and the seeds of discontent are what we are sowing not
The creative roots of harmony and good will burned black by the desert sun all descriptors fail to show
The unique the part that truly was wondrously made no one is looking they are only into the new
Exciting theses very words are the quiet assault that is aimed at them they need restored but they never
Will agree then a nanny kills two little ones in her charge stabs them to death with this insane step into
Yet deeper subterranean darkness the roots of life are growing but they are poisoned throughout it
Reflects on the service the body is racked twisted as a gnarled old tree that can look picture perfect in
Nature but terrible in human life in this state of waste and need of restoration I could hardly see who
Cares at that point the view is most disgusting and in this condition all hope lost the final boat has sailed
With it the last of human dignity goes under the deep black waves when this thought was strongest the
Sea was not my reality only the lifeless desert it was all there was but all of a sudden was it mind tricks a
Mirage I was seeing this beautiful bough filled with blossoms and from there it continued to grow and
Spread out before me all green grasses a profusion of glorious colored flowers of all kinds it started to
Break through the deadness of my mind a time long forgotten slowly started to emerge I couldn’t see
Anyone but I knew that a visitor had joined me tears started like a dam had broken somewhere deep
Within all I knew I was truly loved I had worth and value I could feel it being added anew where I was
An eye sore just moments before now I was a princely person I had this intense sense of whoever it was
Who joined me had known extreme suffering He got me on every level and he was repairing and
Restoring those long festering wounds they just seem to fall off and the greatest peace started to emit
From my inner being there was just a sense of well being that was mountainous and truly rivers of joy
Started to flow out and away my friends step into these words they come from the great restorer your the gift that the thief stole and now you have been reclaimed
Evynne Nov 2013
I put my retainer in; only hoping it would straighten things out. Good luck, love. You're too complicated to be set straight. You're not concrete. You're distant. You live your life like you have headphones in, watching everything without the proper sounds; you listen with your own soundtrack. This fake silence speaks to you. It's your only safety net. It's the only way you feel truly alive and normal. Although you try and avoid normalcy as much as it's humanly possible… Although I find it quite ironic that I used the word "Humanly" because you don't strike me as human at all. You're not like other people.

You actually believe that you need others more than they need you. You search for affection, for stability, for acceptance. You're just a shell of the girl you used to be; troubled and messed up and lost in this sadistic world. You don't know what to do with yourself. What is there even to do with a girl like you? Do you know that you block people off? You don't tell anyone anything sweetie. You just keep to yourself, hide everything away in a little box in that extravagant but strangely complicated mind of yours. No wonder you thirst for affection so much, no wonder you don't have any.

But what I don't get is that you sit there and think about how much you want to talk to people and speak your mind but you don't. You're too afraid of being scrutinized even more than you already are. Because you can't take that you're even stereotyped and scrutinized in the first place. You can't stand that. So you believe it's better to be miserable in your own mind rather than publicizing it all over the place. You'd rather keep it to yourself and wear a mask that says, "There's nothing wrong with me, I have every reason to be happy, and I'm just tired." When the truth is, you believe you have no reason to be happy, there's too much wrong with you to even try to deal with and fix, and you're more than tired, you're exhausted.

"Why is life like this?" You ask yourself over and over again. Always searching and searching for answers but only finding more and more questions. You're always left unanswered; you feel worthless, forgotten. You believe that you're just in everyone's way, that everyone would be better off if you just didn't exist. And you constantly find yourself wishing something horrible would happen to you just so you can have a reasonable and legitimate excuse to be so depressed. So you wouldn't have to wear that **** mask of yours anymore. If people only knew.  

But because of who you are, you push people away. And you allow them to get to you and hurt you. But do you realize that it is your fault for all of this? It's always your fault. You're unstable and prone to trouble and terribly unlucky. You're not fixable; you're just not good enough.

People don't realize the type of person you are. You come off as ungrateful and spoiled and angry and so many things that you're not. You just cover everything up with these negative behaviors and emotions. Which makes no sense, but I know you can't help it. Your eyes don't need all the sadness they have seen. You are a good person; at least you try to be. You're humble and understanding. You feel so much for others and you have the ability to understand them so well. You do things for others that you know they would never do for you. You find yourself criticizing only you, judging no one but yourself.

But your own expectations for yourself are impossible to live up to and you don't realize that. You don't believe in yourself... it's a wonder you have the capacity to believe in others. But it doesn't surprise me that you find it so hard to let yourself fully love other people. You don't love yourself. That's your issue. You can show love for others and be loving towards them but you can never get to the point where you can fully love someone. And you wonder why. It's because you don't love yourself. You like to convince yourself that if you write and think beautiful thoughts than everyone will love you. Too bad no one knows you write and think. And too bad you don't think any of it is beautiful either.

You're just paranoid. You have this weird fear of growing old. You're not afraid to die, you're afraid to grow old. Lose your most prized possession-your mind. Maybe that's why you're so reckless and don't care about anything you do or anything anyone else does. You might as well die young rather than waste the rest of your life being miserable and unhappy. I mean life just gets boring after you're forced to grow up. You lose your freedom.

But don't ask me, I don't know anything.
Written in 2010.
Anna Dulaney Feb 2016
He was an alchemist,
Turning my lead tears to gold,
Because to him I was beautiful
To him I was worth more.

He was a metalsmith,
Fixing my broken copper wings
With tarnished feathers
Because to him, I could still fly.

He was a clockmaker
Resetting my fragmented cogs and beating pendulum
Spending hours and hours
Because to him I was fixable.  

But I am a just broken clockwork angel
With lead tears, broken wings, and severed insides
Rusted away by time and life
And no amount of mending can save me
Hal Loyd Denton Jan 2013
Restoration

I found myself in a desert the sun beat down relentlessly you see I was just one more fool living on the
Devil’s life plan he comes and sizes you up watches with intensity not of care but hate he doesn’t take
Long he has seen the same thing multiplied many times before he does a little razz and dazzle if you
Could have seen my face you would know how appealing it was oh that’s right you got the same
Treatment you see this desert is where he houses all of his captives it’s so wide and vast the thought is
Who’s trapped but we are like the icy ice berg but with us it’s the conscious like the tip then the
Subconscious is all that mass the true awe and power of being human I want to insert two pieces I wrote
That deals with the subconscious I believe you will benefit from them just one more person’s thoughts
On Such a grand subject
Piercing the Inner Sanctum
The trivial the less important will never even get a start into the bastion of peace and well being that is
Sacred and defended to the last breath the one irresistible caller that is never barred and who is as a
Master key is beauty to no avail can you post guards loveliness has no comparisons like spectacle in any
And all forms it governs and rules all of our hearts once seen the invitation is never with drawn like the
Vistas seen from a high mountain incomparable glory is touched sequestered in depths of appreciation
Moments of grandeur with this spell compression is ultimate the thick richness slowly sinks beyond all
Comprehension it will linger for a life time the blues are the high honor of dress befitting a person of
Rare quality to have and squander cherished gifts the emptiness can never be measured but to make
Contact with the sublime on a desert plane the one invaluable gift of solitude no pretense or frivolity
To cause error or a missed chance to speak and hear wonders undeniable voice that is attended by rare
Essences of tranquility that robes itself in splendor it beckons in pure language simplicity that astounds
Bewilderment of the highest order lodges in your soul the hush of holy beings are noticed if only by the
Assured peace that builds a walled fortress nothing can assail these attainments visited and began
By The unutterable beauty that moves with conscious and deliberate design to bestow upon you
The Perfection that once ruled in Eden

Now deeper the mind seeks to find the way where all rules are absent

Bedazzled Dreamer
Put the long boat in the deep waters of the mind the calm peaceful knowing all is glowing we glide not
Knowing where were going the subconscious will be our guide dividing the two worlds the quiet
Submersible is wild anything may be floating in these depths we have left shore far behind truly
We have entered unchartered waters there is no fixable Bering a lustiness takes over there is no helm
Just a pervading looseness not unsettling but truly uncharacteristic for the coconscious must always
Have a grip a grasp of what is where it is and every detail must be quantified now all senses are blown
A storm is brewing its far reaches unknown but there is softness that excludes fear the overriding
Thought is possibilities can be forged maximized eternalized thoughts are ghost like unknown entities
They were formally known but now remain a mystery dislodged from thought bases that are not solid
All is free association tantalizing in one sense then disconcerting in another what do I do with my mind
Surly it has jumped off the track I could be bewildered if I could get a hold on the situation free flowing
Unspoken but still distinctively saying volumes where is the slow button reams voluminous thoughts
Are spewing into nothingness being lost I can’t keep up the discernible is mixed with eons and theorems
Time and space is void of meaning the world here is elastic mass it convulses at will no parameters exist
The only thing constant is high velocity change being in one place is impossible all is jumbled who stirred
This caldron in my mind voice and pure thought are the same think it know it what burdensome lives we
Live when it is all a tattered sail on rough seas we behold nothing know nothing in the extreme
Romanticism blurts out sail for Trafalgar we are strangers in a plush gifted void try as we will there is
No simple answers but we are a simple people truly the only time were are fit is when we are
Sound Asleep well then sleep on and I will do the same dreaming is therapeutic just think how
Crazy we would be without it

So with that small insight this is more truth I signed my life away to the devil and here is the fun
Part it’s like your hardly comfortable on a computer your on this small frame here he is on a
Worldwide super computer and he is a **** like no other you are slowly crawling along he is
Miles Ahead of you try to strike order in life this answer comes back it has been high jacked its
Not even your thoughts any more it’s completely contrary to all that is decent and ideal but it
Comes as a fog it creates a state of disinformation this is how we find we are bound in half truths
In this state how far from love how desperate is our circumstances what caused and allowed
Us to be left to the dry treacherous land of being forgotten misplaced without remedy to know the dark
Embrace of loneliness we are a people of language it finds us it speaks health to our inward being it is
The gentle soothing the spell that alone provides the structure the melodious times hear the flow of
Refreshing water from hidden springs they bend at just the right place they find us where dark
Broodings Are pulling us into compromise and ruin we feel and taste the surety of joy the call of
Assuredness is known in these depths this internal dismay of mazes infernal are their crushing blows
Does it wash away the meaningful is the face of grace seen to be drowning in walled in terrain to high to
Climb to understanding that enlightening that is our very humanness our ability to connect to share
Never forgetting who and where we came from the integral foundation that builds us as a people was
This first dislodging the first steps of chaos the hardness that drives and separates to quickly we are
Adrift and at the stern is ego without measure and the seeds of discontent are what we are sowing not
The creative roots of harmony and good will burned black by the desert sun all descriptors fail to show
The unique the part that truly was wondrously made no one is looking they are only into the new
Exciting theses very words are the quiet assault that is aimed at them they need restored but they never
Will agree then a nanny kills two little ones in her charge stabs them to death with this insane step into
Yet deeper subterranean darkness the roots of life are growing but they are poisoned throughout it
Reflects on the service the body is racked twisted as a gnarled old tree that can look picture perfect in
Nature but terrible in human life in this state of waste and need of restoration I could hardly see who
Cares at that point the view is most disgusting and in this condition all hope lost the final boat has sailed
With it the last of human dignity goes under the deep black waves when this thought was strongest the
Sea was not my reality only the lifeless desert it was all there was but all of a sudden was it mind tricks a
Mirage I was seeing this beautiful bough filled with blossoms and from there it continued to grow and
Spread out before me all green grasses a profusion of glorious colored flowers of all kinds it started to
Break through the deadness of my mind a time long forgotten slowly started to emerge I couldn’t see
Anyone but I knew that a visitor had joined me tears started like a dam had broken somewhere deep
Within all I knew I was truly loved I had worth and value I could feel it being added anew where I was
An eye sore just moments before now I was a princely person I had this intense sense of whoever it was
Who joined me had known extreme suffering He got me on every level and he was repairing and
Restoring those long festering wounds they just seem to fall off and the greatest peace started to emit
From my inner being there was just a sense of well being that was mountainous and truly rivers of joy
Started to flow out and away my friends step into these words they come from the great restorer your the gift that the thief stole and now you have been reclaimed
Melissa Koe Nov 2013
I tend to cry many a night
When things don't seem quite right

When hope, joy, and love
Bug me for a game of hide-and-seek
When all I want to do
Is drift off to a neverending sleep

I have many issues you see
And none of them are quite fixable by me

To the folks at home
Who are too engulfed by their pride
Why can't you see
I'm not taking in stride
I am sorry
I don't mean to disrespect
Only that you can't read my mind
(Will you please cut me some slack?)

To the father figure
I never had
You never called
Never asked
Never cared
(Where were you when things turned bad?)

Then when it comes to you
[My best friend, my lover]
I have to admit defeat,
Because although we're through
I am consumed with vorfreude when I think about you.

But indeed; you are right
By the unspoken rule we shall abide
The past and present shall not collide.
(Though you're still in my thoughts every night)

*

To everyone else
I respect,
cherish or adore
I apologize for being such a bore.
(And for using poetry as a vice)
[past tense]

This is raw, and not my usual style. I barely checked it for anything. Heck I think I made loads of errors. agh and it sounds stupid. Shall resume my normal style soon
Hal Loyd Denton Oct 2012
I found myself in a desert the sun beat down relentlessly you see I was just one more fool living on the
Devil’s life plan he comes and sizes you up watches with intensity not of care but hate he doesn’t take
Long he has seen the same thing multiplied many times before he does a little razz and dazzle if you
Could have seen my face you would know how appealing it was oh that’s right you got the same
Treatment you see this desert is where he houses all of his captives it’s so wide and vast the thought is
Who’s trapped but we are like the icy ice berg but with us it’s the conscious like the tip then the
Subconscious is all that mass the true awe and power of being human I want to insert two pieces I wrote
That deals with the subconscious I believe you will benefit from them just one more person’s thoughts
On Such a grand subject
Piercing the Inner Sanctum
The trivial the less important will never even get a start into the bastion of peace and well being that is
Sacred and defended to the last breath the one irresistible caller that is never barred and who is as a
Master key is beauty to no avail can you post guards loveliness has no comparisons like spectacle in any
And all forms it governs and rules all of our hearts once seen the invitation is never with drawn like the
Vistas seen from a high mountain incomparable glory is touched sequestered in depths of appreciation
Moments of grandeur with this spell compression is ultimate the thick richness slowly sinks beyond all
Comprehension it will linger for a life time the blues are the high honor of dress befitting a person of
Rare quality to have and squander cherished gifts the emptiness can never be measured but to make
Contact with the sublime on a desert plane the one invaluable gift of solitude no pretense or frivolity
To cause error or a missed chance to speak and hear wonders undeniable voice that is attended by rare
Essences of tranquility that robes itself in splendor it beckons in pure language simplicity that astounds
Bewilderment of the highest order lodges in your soul the hush of holy beings are noticed if only by the
Assured peace that builds a walled fortress nothing can assail these attainments visited and began
By The unutterable beauty that moves with conscious and deliberate design to bestow upon you
The Perfection that once ruled in Eden

Now deeper the mind seeks to find the way where all rules are absent

Bedazzled Dreamer
Put the long boat in the deep waters of the mind the calm peaceful knowing all is glowing we glide not
Knowing where were going the subconscious will be our guide dividing the two worlds the quiet
Submersible is wild anything may be floating in these depths we have left shore far behind truly
We have entered unchartered waters there is no fixable Bering a lustiness takes over there is no helm
Just a pervading looseness not unsettling but truly uncharacteristic for the coconscious must always
Have a grip a grasp of what is where it is and every detail must be quantified now all senses are blown
A storm is brewing its far reaches unknown but there is softness that excludes fear the overriding
Thought is possibilities can be forged maximized eternalized thoughts are ghost like unknown entities
They were formally known but now remain a mystery dislodged from thought bases that are not solid
All is free association tantalizing in one sense then disconcerting in another what do I do with my mind
Surly it has jumped off the track I could be bewildered if I could get a hold on the situation free flowing
Unspoken but still distinctively saying volumes where is the slow button reams voluminous thoughts
Are spewing into nothingness being lost I can’t keep up the discernible is mixed with eons and theorems
Time and space is void of meaning the world here is elastic mass it convulses at will no parameters exist
The only thing constant is high velocity change being in one place is impossible all is jumbled who stirred
This caldron in my mind voice and pure thought are the same think it know it what burdensome lives we
Live when it is all a tattered sail on rough seas we behold nothing know nothing in the extreme
Romanticism blurts out sail for Trafalgar we are strangers in a plush gifted void try as we will there is
No simple answers but we are a simple people truly the only time were are fit is when we are
Sound Asleep well then sleep on and I will do the same dreaming is therapeutic just think how
Crazy we would be without it

So with that small insight this is more truth I signed my life away to the devil and here is the fun
Part it’s like your hardly comfortable on a computer your on this small frame here he is on a
Worldwide super computer and he is a **** like no other you are slowly crawling along he is  
Miles Ahead of you try to strike order in life this answer comes back it has been high jacked its
Not even your thoughts any more it’s completely contrary to all that is decent and ideal but it
Comes as a fog it creates a state of disinformation this is how we find we are bound in half truths  
In this state how far from love how desperate is our circumstances what caused and allowed
Us to be left to the dry treacherous land of being forgotten misplaced without remedy to know the dark
Embrace of loneliness we are a people of language it finds us it speaks health to our inward being it is
The gentle soothing the spell that alone provides the structure the melodious times hear the flow of
Refreshing water from hidden springs they bend at just the right place they find us where dark
Broodings Are pulling us into compromise and ruin we feel and taste the surety of joy the call of
Assuredness is known in these depths this internal dismay of mazes infernal are their crushing blows
Does it wash away the meaningful is the face of grace seen to be drowning in walled in terrain to high to
Climb to understanding that enlightening that is our very humanness our ability to connect to share
Never forgetting who and where we came from the integral foundation that builds us as a people was
This first dislodging the first steps of chaos the hardness that drives and separates to quickly we are
Adrift and at the stern is ego without measure and the seeds of discontent are what we are sowing not
The creative roots of harmony and good will burned black by the desert sun all descriptors fail to show
The unique the part that truly was wondrously made no one is looking they are only into the new
Exciting theses very words are the quiet assault that is aimed at them they need restored but they never
Will agree then a nanny kills two little ones in her charge stabs them to death with this insane step into
Yet deeper subterranean darkness the roots of life are growing but they are poisoned throughout it
Reflects on the service the body is racked twisted as a gnarled old tree that can look picture perfect in
Nature but terrible in human life in this state of waste and need of restoration I could hardly see who
Cares at that point the view is most disgusting and in this condition all hope lost the final boat has sailed
With it the last of human dignity goes under the deep black waves when this thought was strongest the
Sea was not my reality only the lifeless desert it was all there was but all of a sudden was it mind tricks a
Mirage I was seeing this beautiful bough filled with blossoms and from there it continued to grow and
Spread out before me all green grasses a profusion of glorious colored flowers of all kinds it started to
Break through the deadness of my mind a time long forgotten slowly started to emerge I couldn’t see
Anyone but I knew that a visitor had joined me tears started like a dam had broken somewhere deep
With in all I knew I was truly loved I had worth and value I could feel it being added anew where I was
An eye sore just moments before now I was a princely person I had this intense sense of whoever it was
Who joined me had known extreme suffering He got me on every level and he was repairing and
Restoring those long festering wounds they just seem to fall off and the greatest peace started to emit
From my inner being there was just a sense of well being that was mountainous and truly rivers of joy
Started to flow out and away my friends step into these words they come from the great restorer your the gift that the thief stole and now you have been reclaimed
All the poems about anxiety--
Never had I understood them until now
I'd warn my relatives and friends
I'm horribly stressed and agonizingly anxious--
And of course they'd nod and tell me
To calm down, it'd be alright
That I was overreacting
It was such a fixable plight

For years I've heard of the pain
Being alone, in an ableist world
**** it up! Don't you know?
You're life's so fortunate!
Some are beaten, some are starving,
Some are trapped in their lifeless bodies
You? You sit there, like a child,
Clasping your arms
Until red, raw bruises surface
Why on earth?
You're older now! Take care of yourself!


So this is what the anxious experienced.
With this, they solemnly dealt.
So much of this I've heard about
Read and dreaded the talk
But now…
The fool I was, to never pay heed,
To never once ask if a friend is all right,
All fine,—of course not!
Still they’d ask for the sake of mine,
And never could I grant the slightest help for good return

Somedays I’ll watch people jest
Even with the severity of anxiety
Perhaps they’re coping,
But many fellows don’t manage the same
Now the public’s ignorance
Runs dry my bottle of patience
I won’t live until they know
The expense of their deplorable actions
Odi Jan 2012
If* only you were a little less bent
Fixable
Like, a little less hollow
Gullible

"If only you would just! stop! thinking!
For once
You must be tired
I mean OH MY GAWD
Its like you're wired!

And like, your're way too cynical
Sarcastic, witty sure, but that's just
typical!
Arrogance, you think your're better-
than- Oh wait look at that hot guy,
his name is Brent-
Wait, wait

Now, what was it I was saying-
Yeah your'e like way too
cold, puts people off
Your're disarming...
No wait-I meant alarming
haha!


I mean smile, for once
Laugh at a joke!
Talk to the guys,
Gosh, you don't even ****!
-All you do is mope,
I mean seriously c'mon
I'm trying to be nice
You have such potential!-"

-"shutup you dumb *****."
sked Jul 2013
Hearts made of glass
Fragile
Bright
Translucent
Small enough to hold in the palm of our hands

The glass is expensive
Irreplaceable in fact
Each type of heart is crafted
Each in different shapes
Sizes
Curves
Carefully crafted and molded
From two other glass hearts
That became one

It is given to us
As gifts
The twinkle in our eyes
Glows as we receive ours

The glass hearts react
To many different feelings

In sadness it takes the coating
Of your tears
And when it fades it hardens
And becomes stronger

When anger hits it
The glass heart will melt
Unable to take the heat

In happiness it will twinkle
Allowing it to shine through
The eyes of others

But as we grow older
We begin to learn
How we care for our hearts

Some of us are careful
Holding our hearts dearly
Cherishing it
So that it can be
Seen by all
Reachable by all
Available to view and to see
The insides and the outsides

Some of us are careless
Recklessly lending it to others
Throwing it
Shaking it
Using it for the wrong purposes
Until one day it breaks
And it needs to be fixed
The glass is fixable but
It never quite returns to its former translucence

The saddest of all though is when
We pretend it doesn't exist
It's when the glass heart fogs up
Not allowing others to see inside
The twinkle once there disappears
Replaced with something solid
The curves still there
The size still there
But in actuality what made something there
Is gone
It stays that way
Until one day
It shatters
And cannot be repaired

The gift of the glass heart
Must be remembered
It is fragile
Which makes caring for it hard
And though we can hate it for its fragility
We love it because of its translucent beauty
We love it because it makes the eyes on others smile and well as ourselves
We love it because it's us
And it's us that should never be clouded
Cadence Musick Oct 2013
i am cracked ribs when it's
raining and the road
is slick
with car oil-
car crashes.
stinking rubble,
the bottle of oxycontin
that rests by your bed,
cold dead feet motionless in the morgue.
i am the graceless stroke of a violin
in unpracticed hands,
the rip rip ripping of a dress
torn off,
the chill in winter breath.
you are the sun that found me
fixable,
not hopeless
or yellow addiction.
you were the cast that healed my broken
bones
piecing back together my
fragmented whole.
Star Gazer Feb 2017
We live in a world where some choose to sit idle by
as a cry for help is silenced by an obsession with wealth,
as mental health concerns suffers the silent treatment
and reason categorises wounds and scars to visible marks.
Sometimes the marks are visible, the physical projection of pain,
the doctors deem them fixable, as if the pain ingested
could be cured by a pill or an injection, it's reckless
to assume pain from a broken perspective.
It is not effective to judge what should and shouldn't hurt,
sometimes it just hurts, the dirt in a wound waiting to blister
like a twister caught between an earthquake and a tsunami,
an army of different antidepressants swallowed without hesitance,
but sometimes it still hurts. It just hurts.

We live in a world where suicide is one thing countries share in common,
and often we ask ourselves 'do politicians ever think about people?'
The feeble argument between money and lives, as the night
passes its light onto different matters. When a person falls in a forest,
can their cries for help be heard. The muttered words are non existent,
but the persistent debate of what is going to be next in the budget cut,
loses touch on what is really human; 'when are we going to fund the help
that mental health concerns deserve?'.

The children is our key to the future, like candles alighting tomorrow
so why are we letting mental illness blow out the lights.
The children is our key to the future, but what future must we share
if humanly care and compassion is missing from the equation,
a new train station will not provide a shoulder for those who need it,
is human kindness disappearing?
How many more lives must we watch perish?
Grace Frederick Nov 2018
Nothing is really forever broken
Everything can be fixed
Tape, Glue, and staples
were invented for a reason
they fix certain things
Communication, journaling, and therapy
are to fix the other things
I am fixable
you are fixable
it may take some time
but it can be
fixed
larissa Jul 2017
my body is over flooding with heat,
from the temples to my fingertips,
as i lay, alone, on a damp sheet that's only cold.

my hands graze over the lips that once kissed your cheek,
to wipe away the water and forbid the taste,
when it sinks into the cracks it meets.

my skin, it's begging, a touch, a sign from you.

a simple clue can fix everything. right?
you think we aren't fixable?
is that why my fingers ache?
my neck wanting to break?
the prints that so desperately shake?
this heart is mourning for the part of you it once danced to.

xo
Hal Loyd Denton Nov 2011
Put the long boat in the deep waters of the mind the calm peaceful knowing all is glowing we glide not

Knowing where were going the subconscious will be our guide dividing the two worlds the quiet
Submersible is wild anything may be floating in these depths we have left shore far behind truly

We have entered unchartered waters there is no fixable Bering a lustiness takes over there is no helm
Just a pervading looseness not unsettling but truly uncharacteristic for the coconscious must always

Have a grip a grasp of what is where it is and every detail must be quantified now all senses are blown
A storm is brewing its far reaches unknown but there is softness that excludes fear the overriding

Thought is possibilities can be forged maximized eternalized thoughts are ghost like unknown entities
They were formally known but now remain a mystery dislodged from thought bases that are not solid

All is free association tantalizing in one sense then disconcerting in another what do I do with my mind
Surly it has jumped off the track I could be bewildered if I could get a hold on the situation free flowing

Unspoken but still distinctively saying volumes where is the slow button reams voluminous thoughts
Are spewing into nothingness being lost I can’t keep up the discernible is mixed with eons and theorems

Time and space is void of meaning the world here is elastic mass it convulses at will no parameters exist
The only thing constant is high velocity change being in one place is impossible all is jumbled who stirred

This caldron in my mind voice and pure thought are the same think it know it what burdensome lives we
Live when it is all a tattered sail on rough seas we behold nothing know nothing in the extreme

Romanticism blurts out sail for Trafalgar we are strangers in a plush gifted void try as we will there is
No simple answers but we are a simple people truly the only time were are fit is when we are sound

Asleep well then sleep on and I will do the same dreaming is therapeutic just think how crazy we would
Be without it
Connor Mar 2017
These thoughts and emotions have not found themselves in the stanzas
Of a poem in quite some time.

There was a time when they no longer
Needed to be; I was fine.

No longer did I hunger for lost love,
Hate myself for things I could not control;
I freed myself from inner-damnation.

Over time, however, I learned that not
Every problem was fixable in this way.

This black dog, ball-and-chain, shadow Monster always finds its way into my life,
Forcing its repulsive manner upon me.

Everyday, I am followed and taunted by
This thing I cannot see, but I feel
So strong, overbearing, dominating.

This horrible manifestation has been
Present throughout my existence, but now,
I am brought down so much lower than Ever before, I am at its will.

I am stricken, beaten, tortured.

I was fine.
Kylie Morgan Oct 2015
The cold hearted boy who stole a kiss. Plenty a times I had been so wise, that's before I fell for those hazel eyes. The eyes that held the secrets which lead to your lies. Those lies that I despise but it didn't matter in the eyes of the cold hearted boy. As the space between us grew the hole in my heart did too. Only was it fixable by you the cold hearted boy. The words that you threw oh those harsh words, oh there was nothing left to save in you. All that time you spent to be mine, I bet you almost convinced yourself. Scared you were, when not used to the feeling of affection. You used full force deflection and ran. It's your immediate reaction. With no idea of the of the trail of betrayal you left behind, you fled you cold hearted boy. But there is a knife built up of your guilt stuck in your chest. Impaling you shredded heart with each lie you speak. Never again shall I be so weak, to let a cold hearted boy take my hand and lead me to my bed. Where I shall spend my nights after crying for the loss of the cold hearted boy who treated me like nothing but a toy
Gavin Mar 2017
To The Daughter I’ll Never Have:

I want you to know that I did my best. I fought for you, for the idea of our family. I stood up for what I felt was wrong. Giving up my selfish ways wasn't easy, but it was doable. You need to know there was a time when our world was fixable.

When I was a child this was paradise...

A cool Summer breeze was a stroll to the 100 foot Oak, drinking the sunlight.
The river was a new road in the December.
Spring was as full as your sinuses.
A dying Autumn took your focus away from mortality.

All at once we cut the trees to steal their fruit, broke the ice with our fast machines, killed the sheep that kept us warm and fed us, and remembered that we weren't invincible.

I can picture you now:
I loved the name Haley.  
Your first words were "Daddy".
You walked into your first day of kindergarten fearless.
You had this ferocious spirit that let you go into any situation without any hesitation. You got that from your Mother.

I was always proud of you, no matter how much trouble you got yourself into. There was something special about you.

I can only dream of the life we'd have together but I fear for the stability of my world today. Not even today have I met your Mother but I know she fears the same for you. What will the world have left for you and those around you left the clean up the messes that those before us made?

It is on that note I regret to inform you that I may never have a chance to meet you.

My time will be spent gluing leaves to the trees.
I will carry polar bears on my back until it breaks, bees on my shoulders until they are stung and swollen, and love in my heart until it swells. While you and I may never meet here on earth, you need to know that this love will not go to waste. Every ounce of love I was supposed to give to you will be shared with everyone who cares about our world now.

Please forgive me for being selfish.

Love,
Daddy
frances Jan 2014
if you have never found yourself
picking splinters from your veins
because you tried so hard to reconstruct
you forgot that not everything is fixable
then maybe you should stop reading

if you have never found yourself
scraping the earth into your own grave
wanting nothing but nothingness
and the silence that comes with departure
then maybe you should give up on me

because I have spent too many days
hoping my mind would suffocate my being
and trying to bind myself to the air around me
because I hate it when things change
for me to explain this only to be dismissed

there comes a time when the nights seem longer than the years
and the sky stops being black velvet
if you stare then you will see
ink spilled across a page

there comes a time of realisation: you are a stranger to yourself
you only notice you are dead
when you're coughing up soil like blood
only to swallow it again
els Dec 2013
Favorite excuse: I'm tired.
Works like a charm.  
Everytime.
Ninetypercentofthetime.

I am tired from lack of sleep
I am tired of being soft-spoken, shy, unsure, standoffish, rude, ******,
I am tired of people talking behind my back
I'm tired of talking behind their backs
I'm tired of being speechless; not knowing what to say,
                                                                                how to say it...
                                                                                       when to say it.
I'm tired of talking to myself
[I like to think I'd love some company]
I'm tired of beating my brains out.
Tired of trying to spend time with people who don't want to spend time with me.
Tired of trying to find new friends [how many people live in the world? why am I alone?]
Tired of fake and fumbled attempts at fostering flailing and failing friendships.
I'm tired of being in a room full of people who see me but don't really see me;
who know me, but only a little.  Hardly.
Who either hate or love what I am now
Who wish I'd go back to the precious, less-scary, much-more-approachable girl that I used to be.

The baby that they ooh'ed and ahh'ed and cuddled into this mush.
A mush that they could mold into anything
they wanted.
They pulled
my arms and stretched my legs.
They smoothed
and straightened "Ooh, yeah, that looks good," they'd murmur under hot, concentrated breath.
But after all, I was only a mush.
Not a tangible and workable [fixable] medium.
Not sugar, not spice, not everything nice; certainly NOT what little girls are made of.
Abigail Keenan Jan 2014
I know the monsters that hide,
Beneath my dreams and bed.
I know they are no match,
For the demons in my head.
Something in me shattered,
long ago when i was small.
It created an abyss,
And in the demons would crawl.
From apartment to apartment,
These demons and i traveled.
They told me i was the death,
Of my own dreams that were unraveled.
These demons, oh! These demons,
Were determined to ruin my health.
And in the 7th grade,
They made me starve myself.
Slowly i began to hate,
Everything i had become.
And the year i sliced my skin,
I knew the demons won.
But that was just a battle,
And i was about to declare war.
Many years I wasted,
In agony and fear.
And I knew from the beginning,
Life wouldn't be so pure.
Now i understand,
That what i have become,
Is fixable with time,
And **** I'm still so young.
Alyanne Cooper Mar 2015
Today is my birthday,
And unsurprisingly
I haven't yet heard from my family.
I texted my twin
Late last night and early this morning,
But my texts have gone unanswered.
I miss her.
I miss all of them.
I was a fool of a child,
Writing all those stories
In which I'd leave them
And start over somewhere
Completely new
With people who didn't know my past
Or care.
All I wanted as a kid
Was to have a different family,
But now all I want is mine back.
It all went so very wrong,
And I don't know if I can fix it.
I don't know if it's even fixable.
I doubt that it is.
So all I'm left with are the memories.
It hurts, you know, to be left.
I think I always knew it would,
So I dreamed of doing the leaving,
But I loved them
And some part of me couldn't leave.
So I stayed
Until they had one by one left me.
I know it wasn't easy for them to stay.
Just because we're family
Doesn't mean that we're required
To stay in each other's lives.
But I chose to stay,
And it hurts
That they didn't choose the same.
I guess I should do what they have done:
Form a new family
With the people I want to be around
And who want to be around me.
But all I want is them.

I want to feel their arms wrap around me
In a great big hug.
I want to share
In their triumphs and successes;
I want to cry with them
In their failures and sorrows.
I want to laugh with them
The bellyaching, deep-chested guffaw.
I want to fall asleep
Knowing they are near.
I want to reach out and hold their hand,
And look down to see the skin
So similar in tone.
I want to eat a meal with them.
I want to hear the sound
Of our voices melded in harmony
Sing together.
But most of all,
I want to enfold them in my arms
And say, "I love you with all my heart."
And have them say it back or "Me too."
I want to know
They are safe and happy and healthy.
I want to soothe their fears and anxieties
With a hot cup of tea
And a good laugh or cry.
But most of all,
I want to look into their eyes,
To say nothing,
Just to gaze again at the depths there.
I want to stand with them
Through everything they face,
Shoulder their burdens,
Put a smile in their eyes.
But most of all,
I want us to say,
I love you.
I love you too.
I love you four.
I love you infinity.
I love you more.
I want them to know love--
Unconditional, freely-given,
Unyielding and unwavering love.
And I want them to see
They're my family,
And that I will love them.
*Always.
Jackie McMahon Apr 2010
something is so wrong here it physically hurts
i think i could be fixed, you know. i could tell someone, they could fix me.
I think it could all go away
oh I'm so convinced. and oh, how perfect it would be
pure transparency
i'm so much uglier on the inside, if you can believe that...
And its fixable I swear it probably is, but
i'm scared of what i might become
I could be fixed, you know
but then i'd lose it, all of the beauty,
i'm sure i wouldn't be able to see it anymore...

So I'll stay broken
i told you, i'm masochistic
And so far form what you could ever think
you don't get it, no, not even you.
I'm sorry, I might have lead you to believe there was beauty here.
Gosh, if you only knew...
if you could understand, you'd run
like i want to
don't you see by now?
I've never said so much **out loud.
handwriting makes everything pretty, even when its ugly typed...
complexify Apr 2017
there's a lot of questions
regarding my heart
that remained unanswered.

is it made of fragile glass
or strong diamond?

is it fixable?
hammering nails
and drilling screws in
or we just glue it all back together?

what colour is my heart?
definitely not white.
is it red?
jet black?
or merely grey?

is it beating
or maybe sound i've been hearing
were the marching parade
to respect the death of my heart?

is it broken
or it was never complete?
but then *if it's broken, how can it still beat?
just curious.

— The End —