Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
She Writes Aug 2018
I hide pieces of myself
Wrapped up in a bow
Anything so you can’t see
The broken me underneath

My sender forgot to mark me
Handle with care
I’ve been damaged
Lost in transit

When I finally arrive
At your feet
I hope you  can look past the cracks
And cherish my pieces
Amanda Kay Burke Jul 2018
Fragments of a broken mirror
Scattered far, I will never fully be found
It is not just my heart that is breaking
Every part of me in pieces on the ground

Reality crashes on my shoulders
I cannot escape the massive weight
The final collapse was inevitable
Difficult to accept my fate

My love strewn, little shards my arms
Unprepared for my feelings to fall apart
I'm not sure how much of me is left
All I know is throbbing emptiness tugging my sore heart

Have been watching cracks deepen for a long time
Felt each tragedy spiderwebbing through me
Sorrow working grooves over the years
Pain has finally shattered me completely
Finally starting to  catch up to posting all the poems ive written... i am impressed with how many I have!
Ella Alvarez Jun 2018
Hey, Siri. Take a note.

Take a note for every time I make a new document to write a paper for class, only for you to power down in 2 paragraphs, because I've observed your patterns and my studies show that I can't depend on you. You crest and trough in intervals so irregular that if someone were to trace your path, from 79 percent, to 58, to 31 and 79 all over again, they'd be able to outline the Sierra Madre.

Take a note for every time you black out like the lights in a house of a horror movie, as dread like waiting for a spirit beyond the door overcomes me, because you know what -- forget the jumpscare, your sudden death already caught me unawares.

Take a note for every time my heart stops over a powerbank left at home, because not even halfway through my Grab trip, you're full, half full, all gone.

Take a note for every time you register a full green bar one minute, only to drop to 15% in two, because I'll have you know, I'm through.

Take note - I'm disappointed in you.

You make my face light up one second, only to dim into a faint red glow the next.

You've proven yourself unreliable; how can I call you my friend?

You're my heart's ultimate puppeteer, second to none,

You get me charged up only to drain me of the color in my face like the green in the corner, full, half empty, all gone.
****, I could toss you aside, falling to my knees,

Watch your screen crack, shatter, cave in

As its glass shards fly and pierce my skin

Ripping my chest to shreds as my heart takes a piece, but that can't be,

because you tore it apart when you powered down on me!

You're the reason I think the glass is half empty, and I… am empty.

I stare into the void of my dead phone screen -- black. Low battery.

I see wrinkles creasing through my forehead, the bags beneath my eyes,

I see dilated orbs drained of any vigor, any life.

I see my reflection on this black mirror, devoid of any expression whatsoever.

No curves lifting the sides of my lips, no pink flushing both my cheeks, just me, soulless.

I'm empty. It's funny. Through you, I see a girl

who crests and troughs at intervals so irregular,

Who's traced the outline of the Sierra Madre on herself,

Who cracks quicker than glass once she's fallen to her lowest

Who realizes that maybe she's been too ******* you, that maybe she should take a look at herself before she opens her mouth,

before she cracks, shatters, caves in,

glass shards flying, spreading thin.

I stare down at your screen's shards across the floor,

I realize how I can't put you back together, not anymore.

I'm very sorry. I have no words.

I guess you can say… I'm full, half empty, all gone.
inspired by the time my phone's battery enjoyed crapping out whenever it felt like.

this one goes out to the inconsistent friends who fail to keep their promises.
Dia May 2018
Where do broken things go when they can’t hide anymore?
When they can’t conceal the cracks and the holes that cover them from head to toe.
I need to know, so to that place I can go.
I just can’t hide my scars anymore.
Olivia Daniels May 2018
I am tortured by you.
you and your lack of words
               your lack of emotion
With each step you take I fall further behind, and not just because
your stride is bigger than mine
but because you won't talk to me.

The frosted glass window cracks
because you built up the pressure inside
and it builds
and it builds
and maybe you don't even realize the explosion your actions would have
on me.
or lack thereof
because maybe to you, there is no such pressure rising
There is no shrapnel aimed at you

For all I know it's in my head
where cocoons break and butterflies emerge
And the glass keeps cracking
My disjointed mind.
that makes something out of nothing
day in and day out
with every small thing that you do
or don't.

when that frosted glass window to your mind shatters
and the truth comes out
and the pieces embed in my skin
never to come out
Then I'll know it's over.
Dig your frosted claws into me
Rip open my skin
Tear out my heart
It loves too much too easily anyway.

I yet again wasted my butterflies on someone who was
unwilling to give back.
a fate I'm doomed to repeat
Because the butterflies are never satisfied
no matter who they land on
and for all I know it's my fault for breeding those bugs
in the first place.
Praggya Joshi May 2018
From the cracks in the sidewalks
of old weather beaten tracks
With gravel roads full of grime and dust
Near dilapidated walls
Where days old refuse has accumulated
And the air lacks it's unique fresh scent
You find a way to thrive and shine
And your smile grows wide
As the sun sails by
Even though you won't be able to change your spot
This forgotten decrepit place
Will be your home throughout your life
Yet you don't seem to mind at all
For you've carved your happiness here
A happiness that seems to last
Even when you're surrounded by grey crumbling life
Day in and day out
You've found a reason to breathe and boom
you're unperturbed by what's around
And that's the reason your beauty sparkles
Way more than those who grow in perfectly manicured lawns
Noelle M Eithun Apr 2018
I seem to always fall into the cracks between your words.
I can’t seem to land on them.
Believe them.
I’d rather fall into a mysterious black hole
I’ve created to imagine my own version of what you say.

I drive myself crazy.
Not believing.
Not seeing.

Just ruining.

What could be.
You can be your own worst enemy.
She Writes Apr 2018
Carrying the weight
Of too many broken things
Enervated her tired back
Broken things are the heaviest
Just look at the weight of a broken heart
She traversed the world
Collecting broken hearts
Trying to find the pieces
To fill all of her cracks
Next page