"peices" poems
I've built these four walls
Palms bloodied in a titanium sentiment
Teeth broken under bottle necked business
The scars draw pictures of the stars
Plastered tears on the wall and called it paint
Leave your scewed values at the door
We can wipe our feet on the hipocrisy and call it a welcome mat
Welcome home darling
These four walls can hold more than your last sip
Structure built from our bridges off of last years ledge
No chance for broken peices to carve our faces on in the night
Welcome home darling
Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 11:56 PM UTC
Picking petals
like you picked apart
my heart.
each piece drifts
slowly
to the ground
You loved me,
you love me not.
Petal by petal.
Piece by piece.
Till nothing's left
but a vacant stem,
an empty vessel.
Left to wither away
never can be whole again,
can't get back what's been taken.
You loved me.
You love me not.
I envy the flower,
for while it dies
after being picked and torn
to peices.
I survive,
these injuries won't **** me
but I'll never be the same.
so i'll continue picking petals
You loved me.
You love me not.
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 11:47 PM UTC
We wwirl and bow under roof tops and
into metal shaving mirriors. I found in me
tiny peices in love to humankind. New words
new foundations lauph with ground breaking
earth worms. We were slugs inching towards
nine slimy hearts. Cut us down and we will
give you one example one reason you are
still yarn weaving through needle fused claws.
Write four lines inside a tigers stripes. Give bees
the chance to **** with kindness. Let us prove
one changes into every universal creation to
form another mothers spitt into faces and thumbs.
This is proof we are one to eachother.
Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 5:43 AM UTC
I hope nobody trusts you again
like I did you
I pray you never hurt another person
like you did me
You carved into my soul
And have taken peices
They will never grow back
Dont ever say that you want to help
because you will just hurt again
you will destroy
and you will ******
This is the perfect story
for a broken heart
you made me feel good
and I just dont understand
how you killed me
I told you everything
and you continued to destroy what was left
and turned me into this
a grumpy
unwanted
suicidal being
Who you illusioned
believing all was good
while you tore me apart
and extracted my heart
I hope you never have somebody
like I thought I had in you
I hope you get what I got in you
because your time is due
you earned that
I hope nobody trusts you
because you will hurt them too
You will tell them what they need
and when its time for you to work
you will never be there
Give us that fake smile
the one that used to push the clouds away
but I know now
that the tornado is coming our way
you make things seem okay
seem liveable
just to gain your unholy power
Hurt is a childs dream
compared to this terror
I have lost all hope
you told me you will help
the only thing you helped
is to ****
Never talk to me again
I cannot bare your lies
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 1:35 PM UTC
Look at that little light bulb
Switched off in disgrace
White but dull, all light gulped,
Deep inside its face
Is it worth being replaced?
Try switching it on,
Try bringing out its inner light,
Try encouraging it to illuminate,
Try giving it a second chance,
But, no, it is now out of date.
You take it out,
Throw it in the trash
It was always meant to break,
It shatters into unfixable peices in one crash
Like this lightbulb
Am I the next one you're going to replace?
Jun 20, 2015
Jun 20, 2015 at 3:45 PM UTC
bunny boo
bunny boo, bunny boo, bunny boo were are you? a little girl called
whats wrong little girl??? I shouted from almost 5 feet away
I lost my bunny.. The little cried" can i help in any way?? Yes you can yell Bunny boo he should come right to you but he isn't for me here are some carrots brake them up into small peices he will follow the trail
2 hours later...
Almost the whole town was searching I FOUND HER i screamed!!!! thank goodness he was following us all along ha ha ha ha a woaman shouted Then i spoke up and said it's a good thing i looked back
Then the girl that lost her bunny asked w-will you be my friend?
ofcourse Cheann I will
Jan 28, 2011
Jan 28, 2011 at 12:19 PM UTC
i placed my heart within a locked box
Hiding it away in a dark corner of my world
In chance my mind might allow days of yesterday
to wash away
Forgetting the ramblings of my moments of
darkness
A box filled with lifes trinkets
some of glass,sliver gold
peices of string that hung from my soul
like tails of kites that kept me afloat
jSweptson
Feb 12, 2011
Feb 12, 2011 at 3:38 AM UTC
No. I don't hate you. I just pretend to be, it's easier I guess. No. I thought it would be easier.
No. I don't hate you. I'm just trying to. Or I guess I was prentending to. But I didn't.
No. I don't hate you for doing all these things. All those unnecessary emotions. I guess that love wasn't really for us.
No. I don't hate you. It's just that I can't love you anymore so I'm finding ways to stop this unnecessary feelings.
No. I don't hate you. I just thought you were that one but I guess I should still be looking for.
No. I don't hate you for doing this to me. I guess you were kinda right but if you still wanted to talk, I'm here. I'm always here.
No. I don't hate you. I just hate the fact that I can't look at you the sameway again. Cause I can't fall in love with you again.
No. i don't hate you. i just hate the circumstances that no matter what we do we can never talk to each other again.
No. I don't hate you. I just hate the fact that I can't even get near you. You feel like 10,000 fet away from me everytime.
No. I don't hate you. I just hate the way everyone looks at us that they wanted to tell something really insulting.
No. I don't hate you. I just wanted those few broken peices of myself that I can't find within me anymore. I just wanted those back.
No. I don't hate you. Because if I did. That wasn't love..
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 6:30 AM UTC
Mercy in small
peices broken apart.
Each of equal size
in hundred parts.
Ninety nine remained
with God unsent.
Only single part for
creation was sent.
Yet enough to show
mercy to each other.
Want to see then
see eyes of a mother.
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 11:01 AM UTC
I must readily admit
I am guilty of this deep pleasure
When it suits me to find a justifying reason to do so,
But like a sweaty fat man
Waiting in line at an out door
Restroom,
I must admit that I find it
Quite uncomforting when
I find one written about me,
As good as it may be,
Some lines genius and genuine
Grasping me to a T;
I feel naked as a blank paper
Being written over and told this
Is what I will be, or am,
Or will never achieve,
Archived in a thought,
Popping my bubble of
Existence and letting a stanza
Didctate my life's
Unfortunate,
But very well writ poem
Stake me in the soul,
How well they know me,
Plagiarism of my own
Confessions,
And I realise
They are just peices of poetry
I have pasted in the past
Cleverly put together
In some Rondeau' or
Dickinson flurry,
And wonder what the truth
About a plagiarism's gambit,
Hoping to nail me onto
The front page wall,
Disguised as poetic license
To hang me out in the open,
Yet I have seen these lines,
And no one can expose
Themselves better than I,
Read between the lines
And there is a hint of envy,
The honor becomes mine.
Sep 28, 2017
Sep 28, 2017 at 5:38 PM UTC
dark thoughts consume my soul.
filling every little hole.
untill im just cold.
nothing left i wonder.
oh no i say as i scoup up all the peices to the the broken mirror that is my life
as i carefully but them in to place.
i look into the mirror and i see the demons of my past deeply peering into my soul.
again i feel cold not just in my body but in my soul.
what are those dark thoughts you ask.
well let rewind.
back to that one time.
my time.
in 2011.
lying there on the concrete.
and again my sould feels very cold.
i hit a vain.
oh the pain.more than i could every think.
i cant even blink.
he finds me.
who is he.
he whispers "come with me".
moments later im surounded by clouds.
i think to my self "where am i".
hey whispers again "dont fret child i will be you guide in you time of need".
please now return me please.
you cant do this to me.
im not ready yet i am not worthy.
of you guidence or protection.
i do not want to go to heaven just yet.
for yet there is something i must do.
mother i must apoligze to you.
for
Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 9:18 PM UTC
At goodwill Buy the Pound
every day is black friday
Hundreds of soccer moms line up their
white sneakers on a black and yellow caution tape line
zombie over it streching for yu-gi-oh cards
wait for hazmat suits to wheel out eight bins full of trash gone treasure.
When the bins are locked in place the hazmat suits go back to pack another load
The air horn sounds.
You do not want to be anywhere near that caution tape line when this happens.
At goodwill buy the pound
If you're not part of the fight,
you're part of the floor.
They need to find their
puzzle peices lost in cat liter
Johnny really needs
every single nerf dart
DID YOU TAKE A NERF DART?!
WE TALKED ABOUT THIS JO-ANN
THOSE WERE FOR JOHNNY.
Johnnys grandma is not the only elder throwing elbows
varacose veins are curb stomping dads hauling consoles to make a quick buck
Skinny College aged video game collectors swim through the mom-pocalypse
raid the stashes for disguarded NES cartridges
Jo-ann grabs a twinky boy by the black graphic hoodie.
Tosses him back into the horde
lunges for a barbie doll hidden under some wires.
This is not a place for nice children.
If you aren't willing to push around some nanas
you will leave covered in nike prints.
This place turns people.
Ever look at someones mom and think
She looks like she's always wearing a mask.
She is!
Buy the pound is her natural habitat.
One grandma keeps so many cats, her living room is a Petrie dish
I think she just wants to be in charge of a small third world countrey.
Granny needs to go rally up the soccer moms at buy the pound.
To lead those cats into a mother thirfting revolution
These woman leave feeling like they saved their family a fortune
Dumpster diving for sport.
Every tossed or trampled stranger
One flip flop closer to
feeding their children
clawing through poverty
When that airhorn sounds again.
They scurry back to their carts.
Tell their children
"Make sure nobody steals this"
as they line back up in haste.
Touch their all white nikes to the caution tape line.
Hold their family close like brass knuckles.
when that airhorn sounds.
It's time to fight.
Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 10:49 AM UTC
I guess you're getting tired of my drunk phone calls at 3am.
I guess you don't care about my slurred sentences begging
For you to come back.
And I guess you're happy laying there alone when you know I'm just breaking into peices without you to hold..
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 2:16 PM UTC
*How does one follow their heart,
when their heart has been shattered and broken, then scattered into a million fragments--into miniscule, tiny,
little peices?
Which direction does one go,
when all pathways come to a close;
when insanity, fear and anxiety increases?
How does one follow their dreams,
when their spirit has been crushed
and their soul has been taken by the wind, never to be whole again?
Left with only memories of whom they once were--a precious being. Forever lost, destroyed--obliterated; but still able to feel intensely, the feeling of torment.
Numbness overtaken by a constant state of relentless, endless and needless pain...
...How?
⚘ By Lady R.F. (C)2017* ⚘
Dec 21, 2017
Dec 21, 2017 at 8:17 PM UTC
A sorrow and my words,
I remain the same,
Alone....
Together before like an opaque
Tear under impressions
Of time in my time,
Thoughts rein in the future
Of course without her,
We spoke of love
While love was written
Under the quarter moon
And the night peices
A masterful passing....
I cannot stay here
In your company theoretical,
The memorial entombed
Into the fibers of every verse,
A past sudden,
And I remain there,
Such a melancholy being,
Though u kept me
In the moments
I remain there in the future
Without you,
Passionate to the narrowed
Views,
Enormously grateful for sorrows
That weep today's passing,
Oh I remain in the moment,
You reminded me to be there,
Little did I know
I would be left behind
And I don't love her anymore,
I linger perfectly imprisoned
And the words bleed,
Joyous for the mist in my eyes,
Alone with your memory
And her name is.....
But a few thoughts
Scribbled in seclusions.
Nov 11, 2017
Nov 11, 2017 at 2:40 AM UTC
When the home falls apart
What is left but halves of hearts
Torn, you leave us bewildered
Shot to peices
Fight, fight one another
Fight, fight to stay together for every other
For every other person with a white picket fence
For every other viewing your dwindling desire towards your "significant other"
When the fire expires
When the ashes have fallen
and the smoke has risen
What is left standing
Just the family that had to listen
Thanks mom and Dad, you really had it bad
Follow the craze as we sit in a daze
Today, divorce is just a fad.
Its all okay
Just as long as you two are glad.
May 20, 2012
May 20, 2012 at 9:25 PM UTC
If we are
one people,
do we ****
a bit of our
selves when
another is
taken, another
soul lost to
the river.
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 6:32 PM UTC
I see a familiar face
in a dusty puzzle
dumped from the box
hidden behind the viola
a fragment of her eye
and a bit of her hair
painted on the piece
stuck in the roots of
a half dead bloom
most of the peices
must have been burried
several seasons ago
I have half a mind
to let it rot till
the pink of her lips
fades
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 1:03 PM UTC
I
Am awkward
And jumbled
I fit together
Like sticks
And stones
With childs elmer glue
Like a macaroni smiley face
With the edges all wonky
And you say my "curves" are beautiful
But i say my "angles" are awkward
Too sharp
My hips
Too prominent
You can see my collar bone
For miles
My ribs are
All too
There
My skin has become transparent
My veins
An ugly blue
My freckles
Out of place
I just dont know what
To do
Im a scarecrow
Of human peices
Individually
Good
But sow me together
I dont quite fit
I
Am awkward
And jumbled
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 7:52 AM UTC
Thunder, and Lightning decided to open up their relationship.
Invited me to join them in a Triad.
Thunder and lighting have this eternal connection,
Belong together
I love watching them dance
Perform for me impulsive without leashes
I worship the trust that requires
The loyalty, faith in each other
Flying wherever they want,
Loving loud and without boundary
Knowing this storm belongs to them.
Safety, Definition: that moment after every passionate lovers kiss.
We are worshiped as the same storm.
Now I have the oppurtunity to build intimate connections with thunder.
With lightning.
Thunder has this base drop palpitation
Our hearts twitch in time just to align
The feeling of her crushing my butterflies
With firm hands, a passionate kiss that lasts only seconds.
Lighting comes in these quick bursts
I never feel like I can look at him long enough
Bright, dangerous
Knows he could **** me in a second
If he only touched me
He will never touch me
Only dance
Never long enough
Keeps me craving more
Likes to give me that headrush
When he returns.
As for me,
I was content just worshiping them
Every second they weren't worshiped,
Wasted chances, lost time, missing puzzle peices.
I didn't expect an invitation
This chance to see them honestly
Two seperate beautiful creatures to worship
Instead of one savory storm to feel pulse through me as one dancer.
I'm just an awestruck boy staring at the sky
Lost in endless baby blue, warm off sunrays, or choosing my favorite freckles in the stars
More lovers to distract me when they are gone.
Jun 1, 2017
Jun 1, 2017 at 3:26 PM UTC
Bits of me unlock and let go
Floating past what remains of my eyes
I am made of so many colourful peices
I exhale the last of my lungs
A pink cloud shimmers in front of my face
Lighter and lighter as my body departs
Floating upwards where the air is thin
Raindrops falling between the flecks of me
My being stretched just as thin as the air I travel through
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 2:17 PM UTC
when you can actually feel the pain in your chest from searing something that breaks your heart.
when you feel that pain rushing down to your stomach, making you ***** ***** out the broken peices..
when you've purged yourself of all feeling, and you feel your body numb.
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 1:49 PM UTC
tears drown & swallow my sacrifice whole while
twisting & tearing
my bleeding heart.
ever so gently scratching;
eating away the seeds
that have been planted
while we were apart
difficult to distinguish bad from good
i blow you my trust in a kiss
soft as satin;
shivering in fear
someone else could hold you dear
that you'll slip away
or worse yet you'll leave my mind
or wander astray from these weary eyes
begging for someone
anyone else
as anger rages like a tornado inside
and i swear on my life
that this will be the last time
the aching buried in my dreams want this to be the last time
the numbness in my soul i crave for
knows it wont be the last time.
wishing things were different
so i didnt have to argue
or stumble into knives
that drive down our spines
swearing up and down
we wished we hadnt met
or danced
thinking it will solve
pools of regret.
grazing cold fingers
down the sides of my cheeks again
i feel something break
plummeting
into a billion peices on your ***** bed
along with the rest of your life you dont care about.
arrogance seems to be your best feature
admitting there is no point explaining
what you already know
and choose to ignore.
you sit back content
wanting nothing more
staring with a blank expression as my bleeding heart
falls to the floor.
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 6:31 PM UTC
This morning
I woke up
and
told Melissa we wouldn’t
make it past three months.
We're at month two,
and I can feel it.
Either I’d drop her, or she’d
drop me, but either way
“we don’t have staying power,
and there’s no point
in either of us
pretending like we’re grown ups
who can just power through things
out of sheer complacency”.
I wasn’t looking at her.
Just up
at the spackle and a spinning fan.
It’s so hot in here,
that we sleep on top of the covers
sweating little puddles of skin
into the comforter.
Nightly,
we mash those deposits of dried salt
deep into the mattress
with our sloughing bodies
to get stuck
and form
tiny caves of skin and boredom in the springs.
She rolled away from me
swirling off a cloud
of stale, watermelon shampoo
And reached
With a tightly domed deltoid
towards the blue milk crate
where her purse sat.
She rummaged in there,
her back muscles working
like a landslide of flesh.
She finally dropped the purse,
after an effort of five minutes,
and I heard the successful flick
of a lighter.
She started
puffing and chugging down smoke
As she laid on her side.
My eyes watered
in the bluish smog,
and as the fan turned
raining down peices of our own skin
in a dusty, undetectable cloud of particulates
I could just see her,
out of the corner of my eye,
Shifting the weight of her body
from her deltoid
to her trapezius.
Nov 20, 2011
Nov 20, 2011 at 11:39 PM UTC