"unrepairable" poems
My chest is heavy
Calm down you say
My breathing is rapid
It's no big deal you say
My heart is racing
What's the problem you say
My words are caught in my throat
She wants attention you say
My head is spinning
She is being dramatic you say
My whole body is trembling
Why do you act like that you say
My tears won't stop falling
Don't act so weak you say
My screams echo inside my head
It's just another day you say
My mind broken and realing
You're so bothered by little things you say
My heart is shattered, unrepairable
Why do you say all these things you say
May 19, 2018
May 19, 2018 at 10:54 PM UTC
how do you love something back to life?
how do you heal someone who is unrepairable?
what do you rely on? what do you use?
hope is merely but a bandaid on a broken bone.
no amount of love can fix what was already broken.
we were broken from the start;
nothing more and nothing less.
we built our love on a foundation of false hope.
nothing more
and nothing left.
Dec 3, 2017
Dec 3, 2017 at 1:20 PM UTC
I Jammed the pain inside, to wait for the defects to reside. Today strays and wanders away until it's stuffed down inside the void of discomfort. Let's roll our imagination onto light able paper, light it, and watch it burn..
See because that's what addiction does. It overrides your body latching on your inner artistry for its fuel. Pretty soon you become a machine, something mindless. Fasten your seatbelt because your on auto-pilot.
Now the transactions of your body really start to inaugurate. Your internals no longer has what it takes to fight, to resist, so now come the alterations.The tips of your fingers go hand in hand with the tip of your tongue. How your saliva's lust for substance dismantles the chemical compounds. Your taste buds loving that all too familiar feeling. Your greed full blood consuming every inch of it. As the destruction slowly trickles down your throat your anxious. Then the finale comes, the moment you've been waiting patiently for the manipulation and overhaul of your brain and your reality remodeled, your home.
In those seconds pain is never an option, never a thought. Your lost out at sea. But that's all it really is, seconds, minutes, sometimes hours, just a little more time to stick the dysphoria on the back burner. When in truth you've just deepened the scar and exposed it to infections. When it's gone your left with broken thoughts that feel unrepairable.
Addiction doesn't just come from pre-packaged materials, they come from every entity you wish that blocks the truth out. They come from unfulfillment , pain, and soak themselves until you are left with no control. You have to fight, fight for your life. Face the music
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 7:21 AM UTC
Rotten fruit is still fruit, no matter how bitter or sour the taste
I don't keep rotten fruit in my house, there is no what if, or case.
Decomposition is the fate, once a fruitful piece of life, is now death,
served, rotting in its place.
I won't be the piece of fruit rotting from the inside out,
because of the fruit that surrounds me.
You smell is getting stronger, your taste; undesirable.
I cannot digest, your unrepairable.
One last time I will reiterate,
I don't keep rotten fruit in my house, there is no what if, or case.
Mar 28, 2012
Mar 28, 2012 at 4:33 PM UTC
all these broken things surround me
our broken relationship
these ripped papers
the pencils that i snapped in half
that ugly drawing i drew
the pictures on the wall mock me,
your eyes penetrate my soul
they capture a much simpler moment, in a much simpler time of our lives.
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 8:30 PM UTC
I'm tired of this fake reality.
This non existent world I call home.
This fantasy where whales fly with the wind while woodpeckers swim with the waves.
A place that Impossible scenarios call home.
Exhaustion takes me there every night.
I've studied this place and I know how it works now.
It's not a home for impossible scenarios but a place for false hope.
It takes your memories and creates fantasies that'll never turn into actualities.
I've noticed this so I've stop trying to go there.
These nightmarish places disguised as fascinating fantasies are no interest to me anymore.
I'm leaving this hellish place behind but I'm not going to leave without something.
I'm not going to let my nightmares runaway with years of my dreams.
I will drag something good out of this situation because my teacher told me to write a celebration.
When in reality
For me at least
That is almost unachievable.
Key word almost
All I have ever wrote is depressing poems crafted by a beautiful mind using sinful words.
So I ask myself:
How is this possible?
How does one take a hellish situation and find hope?
How does one go outside their comfort zone?
What am I going to do?
I've tried before.
It only stuck me in second place at my freshmen year slam which ***** because I finally know I'm much more then some ******* second place at a freshmen year slam.
I just wish I knew that early.
So I wouldn't have to have these emotional scars, and physic.
They have returned, day after day, week after week, year after year.
But I am done.
I'm going to find something good in these nightmares if it kills me.
I've taken these emotional scars and taught myself to deal with them.
These scars that are unseeable can't restrain me anymore.
You see, I finally now how to give celebration to these corrupted dream catchers that live inside my head.
These Permanent EMPs that block dreams and not nightmares.
These things that have created unwanted dates with unwanted "dreams".
I've experienced anything and everything there.
So if I'm gonna pull anything from this hellish place.
It's experience.
I've played this game of life hundreds of times and I finally know the level nows.
I know where not to go.
I know what not to do.
And I know who not to talk to.
You see these things are just thoughts from my broken guardian angel trying to warn me about the bad things in life.
The things in life that broke her and made her unrepairable.
She does not want that for me.
So thank you broken guardian angel for stealing my dreams and making them nightmares.
I've only just realized that these nightmares are metaphors for hard life lessons.
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 1:33 PM UTC
In this moment I've never felt so empty
My heart is a wooden slab being knawed away at by pesky termites that leave unrepairable holes
And my lungs like Swiss cheese that can't seem to give me the oxygen I need in order to rid the lump of sorrow in my throat
It's in this moment that your back has turned to me, as I count your steps and wait to hear the slamming of a car door
I count on you to look back at me and smile, but my hope has again betrayed me, and I realize the last I'll see of you will have been this moment
So I've never felt so empty
I've never felt so alone
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 3:21 PM UTC
for Maria
you want to ask,
knowing in advance,
the answer is a scream
even if it is silent traveling,
on a frequency transversing,
that humans cannot discern
so strange is it,
that the imposition
of the interrogatory
is the almost harder part
of the two dance partners,
question and answer
a simple
"how are you"
is simply inadequate
in every respect,
it is almost,
disrespectful
for there is no how or are
and for sure, there is no
you anymore
how could there be,
when pieces of your flesh
by hot combs inquisitioner pierced,
levying cuts impervious to
medicinal magic
asking
how was your weekend,
beyond absurd,
what matters the day of the week,
when the unrepairable ailment of thy soul
has a permanence that makes
calendars superfluous
but on certain days,
certain worse than others,
because they freshly dress
the still red scars,
fresh bright pained painted with
unrepressable, unsurpassable memory agonistes
of seeds and wine
so you ask dumb,
you ask blind,
waiting for a
shotgun blast reply,
hoping you will be
the forgiving kind,
but prefacing the inanity with
a forgiveness plea confession,
"I don't know how to ask"
and you reply
*"there is no correct way,
and
there is no correct answer"*
and neither the interrogator
or the interrogee is content,
the Yankee boy and the Southern gal,
unless it is to scream,
till the air in the lungs depleted,
and when replenished,
having screamed to the heart's content,
the heart impaired,
cannot ever be contented
your own insane humanity prompts
to ask again, no matter,
for the only correct thing
is the asking~caring,
even though advance notice
has been given,
there is no correct answer
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 2:42 PM UTC
I remember the day when love you'd say
Embrace me and take me to the place
where we'd both engage... In love filling the dull and pale page
Inspiring the knowledge of an ancient omniscient sage
I remember the scent that showered my senses
I remember the nuzzle and the puzzling glare
When you'd stare wondering if I would stay
and from this buzz magic we shared
And laying you on my lap studying your soul's map
Searching for the destination of your heart
healing the wounds along the way where the wolves marked
Will I ever succeed mending a broken heart? I wondered.
So many pieces didn't seem to fit
How do you survive going about as a wreck?
I guess you go on for there is ever someone next
Oh! Only leaving you more lonely
Your heart crying: "Somebody hold me,
Burn the sour of my throat that chokes me"
And honesty and loyalty you know no more
Only a cognitive matrix that has you feel like *****
You lost the battles but won the war
You are the monster of your love sore
The pieces leave wounds unrepairable and
inspires a behaviour unbearable
Leaving you in dramatic peril
But love you still have
Settling you know not, always quick to dance
but so many malevolent composers are there
Can you please them all?
Will they sit beside you on your bed after *** or leave and close the door?
A sham a shame, who to blame?!
Once red, now a black broken rose
squandering pink minnows
Sweet cheerio! And money band
Heart of gold and hands of sand
Will you ever find form?
Will you ever heal from the storm?
I hope the poetry of the moments keeps you warm.
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 5:49 AM UTC
I swore to myself
I would never let anyone break
through those walls again
after you tore them down.
They were crushed,
beaten,
and mangled.
They bricks that held my flimsy heart together
were completely obliterated.
Slowly, I hauled the unrepairable pieces.
I have started using a stronger barrier
where nothing can get through.
Not even someone like you;
Sweet, innocent, and caring.
An unsuspecting visitor.
I recreate a portion of this wall
Sturdy enough, I thought
for now.
Proud of the long way I had come.
It is reasonably hard work
for such an undeserving
*****
An unpredicted smile,
along with the brushing of a hand
against my face, tucking a loose strand of hair
away behind my ear.
Causes all progress to disappear.
**It will never get easier.
You will never cease to take my breath away.**
Dec 28, 2011
Dec 28, 2011 at 2:41 AM UTC
(this is another throw-back - a piece of writing, from high school, used in my Yale applications)
I pound the pillow, curse the clock and mock injunctions to rest.
The sun finally rises and its rays slantwise fall through the curtains as I dry my hair.
A meal, like a forced dose, we soak ourselves in wasted, nervous time.
Finally! We arrive at the competition...
Tension is here and tireless pressure.
The players waiting stiff as straw, tongues playing over dry lips.
Teachers and coaches unapologetic in their pallor.
Music drifts behind us and occasionally gasps, as imperfections play like daring circus tricks.
The sparkling prodigy returns disappointed, grimace of a smile, stricken, he stares away as we search for words, oh! clumsy, unrepairable prince!
Suddenly, its time and I wonder why we are hurrying, feeling weak, momentarily frightened to go there.
On this stage in this great, hushed hall, enormity suddenly dawns with mass enough to crush me.
At last, I sit before this odd Steinway music machine - my dearest mechanical friend.
A tremble resisted - the reward of mortal afternoons - endless practices fruit.
Eyes closed I prepare my best self - pushing all fear, all doubt, to the margins - and begin.
I hope, to recreate, one note at a time, Chopin's ancient impact - with hands flying, like tethered birds, I hammer out his timeless melody explosions, his streams of crazily exact math exam fiery semiquaver motions.. then, almost suddenly, I'm done.
I stand, joyously, nearly crying.. The world hasn't ended.
.
.
Songs for this:
12 Etudes, Op. 10: No. 4 in C-Sharp Minor by Vladimir Ashkenazy
Part of Your World by Emile Pandolfi
We gather together by Emile Pandolfi
Nov 3, 2024
Nov 3, 2024 at 9:30 PM UTC
I'm slowly breaking
tearing apart
unrepairable
like a spinal chord
torn in two.
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 10:52 PM UTC
I'm not sure who to address this letter to, myself or my ex lover...
I've always had this love affair with self destruction. As if life wasn't already difficult enough, I constantly sought out my own blend of vices and chaos to add to the mix. Perhaps something inside me has always been beautifully broken, disastrously unrepairable; so I've endlessly searched for things, places, and people that either were damaged themselves or caused further destruction. It made me feel closer to normal.
Every relationship I had was one I knew was doomed from the beginning. Yet, I chased after them anyway, running after the pain I knew would come. It was almost as if there was a little red button, above certain people or right before I did something incredibly stupid, that screamed and beeped and flashed "DO NOT TOUCH. MUTUAL DESTRUCTION ENSURED." Obviously, I always pressed the button.
While I admit I have caused more people undeserved pain than I care to think about, I should clarify it was never about hurting you. I think somehow I innately understood whatever I was about to do would blow up in my face, send shrapnel ripping through my already wrecked body; and that was what I craved. I was and am addicted to destruction.
Dec 9, 2017
Dec 9, 2017 at 12:57 AM UTC
Love is unforeseen.
Love strikes at any moment undetected.
Love happens when trading back and forth poems.
Love happens as you cuddle.
Love happens when you are dancing.
Love happens as you laugh in unison.
Love happens;
As you "lean wit it, rock wit it".
As you hold the person most important to you.
As you look within their eyes,
and see another life.
As you meet them for the first time.
As your lips finally touch.
Love is;
The warmth within when you see his/her eyes.
The loneliness you feel when ***** leaves.
The chills down your spine when ***** is in pain or hurt.
The greatest connection one can cherish between another human being.
Love is never lost.
Whether death cuts in between.
Whether the world ends.
Whether the damage is unrepairable.
Whether time has separated you both.
Love is never lo...
Love is nev...
Love is...
Nov 4, 2010
Nov 4, 2010 at 2:29 PM UTC
I desire to create,
What remains unperceived,
Unrepairable faith in it's authentic self,
Unscathed by anothers opinion or morals,
Their hopes and desires,
The birth of such a rebellious idea remains unearthed,
I want it raw,
But God despises it,
The idea of being challenged,
So all left of my thoughts is the binding vision of tomorrow,
A vision of hope,
That ensues an ameliorating repercussion on my mental capacity,
Concluding the idea of a saviour,
And Of my passion and greed,
Greed to learn something I shall never master,
Sep 28, 2024
Sep 28, 2024 at 1:45 PM UTC
Unwish readings, rapists, unrepairable rips,
I wish to undo
the space between
me( )you
and where I once wrapped my thighs around your hips
and the whistling trill of my sleeping breath once felt a home in the
cavernous space
between your head and your breast
and I
and I
found shelter in your curls,
pulling until they escaped from me, undone.
Mussed love, entombed in the perfumed past of white rooms by untouched oceans
and unsullied books, too occupied by the wonder found in each other, each others' bodies
and I lie awake with the ghosts
in haunting of my own accord and I watch at the window
and I watch at the window
and I watch at the window, waiting
I wonder
I wonder
could you need me, still,
now?
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 11:53 PM UTC
A pageant of recklessness
A disregarded package of regrets and resentments
Tired and penniless
Unrepairable, no time to do maintenance
Unguarded and anxious
A messenger absent of messages
An organic premise of a pesimess
Heart of ice and might be the coldest
A lot of truth is said in jest
Even if hard to digest
But how is it I'm still on karma's shiit list?
It's hit list might as well be a balled up fist
Split personality,
Both turn against me with the quickness
Okay life, I give in, you win,
You're better than me at this
I've seen enough, I'm done,
Don't force me to continue to be a witness
To this travesty you supplied me with to begin with
©2024
May 31, 2024
May 31, 2024 at 3:52 PM UTC
And I love you with every inch of my being
Though it sounds cliche
It couldn't be more true.
When you left, I shattered.
Clenching my teeth and tightening my bones
To keep from falling apart
There was so much happiness
So much I should've appreciated
So much I loved but never knew
Now we just might be an unrepairable vase
Left in pieces on the ground
Too broken to put the pieces back together
But I love you.
I love you so much my heart feels as if it is being consistently beaten with a hammer
I love you so much I am crawling out of my skin waiting for you to come back
And if I weren't afraid of looking so desperate
I'd beg you to give it another chance
We could be greater than we were
We could love stronger than before.
Aug 7, 2015
Aug 7, 2015 at 1:11 AM UTC
It's days like this when I still feel in love;
then I realize he's gone and the pain comes rushing back again.
Now I just feel the chill of the open window
and I'm no longer enlightened, just bitter cold..
Time is supposed to make this easier, but why wont my heart forget?
Just reset like before.
I don't understand.
I seriously think it's untreatable, unrepairable.
That was all I had left in me and now I'm just tired..
It's exhausting trying to feel anything other than heartache and terror.
Even those feeling exhaust me.
I'm tired...
Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 12:05 PM UTC
Old people become like children.
They need care & monitoring.
Broken & unrepairable.
Intolerable & unbearable.
Stained, torn, & unwearable.
Empty & no longer full.
Anger takes you like a raging bull.
Motivation pushes & pulls.
Through & behind locked doors.
Solid brick walls coward's hide from us all.
Guilt has shame.
Responsibility blames.
Isolated & insane.
Somethings stay the same.
Sometimes people, places, or things change.
Somehow all becomes strange.
Memories rearrange.
Ambitions & goals get deranged.
Shattered dreams are pained.
Credit is unfamed.
Wild hearts are never tamed.
Fallen through the cracks like grains of sand.
Your destiny is purified your hands.
You fall where you land.
"Family" has you labeled & banned.
Inspirations & Aspirations are canned.
Your future is never planned.
Traffic flow gets slowed & jammed.
Victims are slandered & slammed.
Innocence gets ******
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 1:39 PM UTC
Who will shine brightly now that he's gone
Like the candle lights after the funeral
His life was put out.
For some people life will never be the same
Their hearts forever broken.
He could be replaced by none
That boy was someone's son
Someone's friend
But in the end
It didn't matter.
Too scared to go for help
Too alone to cry out "Please someone SAVE me"
Too desperate for an end to see that things would get better.
But you don't care
Because you never recall
Those times in the hall
Him: pinned against the wall
Feeling so small
You: Looking left then right
No teachers in sight.
How could you not see
This young man's desperate plea
For you to just stop.
Everyday you harassed
Made a fool of him
You were so cruel to him.
WHY?
His faith in humanity was destroyed
No longer finding happiness in the things he once enjoyed
The void you made in his soul
Unrepairable
His life was so terrible and unbearable...
So he took it.
He left no note
No reason
But like leaves after the changing of the seasons
He had fallen.
Years later
His memorial coated in dust
Just a faint memory of him remained
Stained by your association
Frustration building in those he loved
Shoved reasons that made no sense
Intense questions remained unanswered
And because of you
They never will...
Jul 25, 2011
Jul 25, 2011 at 3:36 PM UTC
I pound the pillow, curse the clock and mock injunctions to rest.
The sun finally rises and its rays slantwise fall through the curtains as I dry my hair.
A meal, like a forced dose, we soak ourselves in wasted, nervous time.
Finally! We arrive at the competition...
Tension is here and tireless pressure.
The players waiting stiff as straw, tongues playing over dry lips.
Teachers and coaches unapologetic in their pallor.
Music drifts behind us and occasionally gasps as imperfections play like daring circus tricks.
The sparkling prodigy returns disappointed, grimace of a smile, stricken, he stares away as we search for words, oh! clumsy, unrepairable prince!
Suddenly, its time and I wonder why we are hurrying, feeling weak, momentarily frightened to go there.
On this stage in this great, hushed hall, enormity suddenly dawns with mass enough to crush me.
At last I sit before this odd Steinway music machine - my dearest mechanical friend.
A tremble resisted - the reward of mortal afternoons - endless practices fruit.
Eyes closed I prepare my best self - pushing all fear, all doubt, to the margins - and begin.
I hope, to recreate, one note at a time, Chopin's ancient impact - with hands flying, like tethered birds, I hammer out his timeless melody explosions, his streams of crazily exact math exam fiery semiquaver motions.. then, almost suddenly, I'm done.
I stand, joyously, nearly crying.. The world hasn't ended.
Dec 3, 2020
Dec 3, 2020 at 6:53 AM UTC
i use your words
as a bandage
encircling my heart
trying to hold together
what little is left
of love
but
the anguish
and bitterness
have torn apart
any semblance of healing
and no words
or kind expressions
can mend something
with pieces missing.
Aug 26, 2015
Aug 26, 2015 at 9:12 PM UTC
A piqued sweater
A constant reminder of a snag in the design.
A moment unexpected.
A pull too strong for comfort,
but not so strong to tear the fabric
away from its intended purpose.
Leaving less of a mark of the memory
and more of a reminder of what could be.
A warning of frivolity and reckless abandon,
or at least the consequences of such.
Not unrepairable. Not to be discarded.
Simply to be well-worn.
To be cautious of being caught.
To be lived in arms crossed, if need be.
To live in the present,
afraid of the future, or something akin,
and aware of the past. Unfading.
Aware of the thread so easily tugged
into the pattern of unraveling.
Mar 6, 2021
Mar 6, 2021 at 10:35 AM UTC