breaking
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Out of everyone else, with you it hurts the most,
Because this was the first time in my life where it felt like we were getting close.
As much as I don't want to say those words to you,
No matter how many times I tell myself not to, I can't stop myself from watching it,
And everytime I do, I am always left feeling like my heart took a hit.
You’ve broken a million times over
And you keep breaking
Again and again
You’ll just keep breaking
Until you’ve fallen apart
The clouds held no light,
For there was not another in sight.
Artificial tears fell down her cheeks,
just as carefully as she could speak.
Her hope was lingering.
You were there when I needed you the most…
When I was breaking under pressure,
Like a sapling overburdened with snow.
I always thought of myself as a mighty oak,
I'll be there when your world collapses
I'll be there every time you get hurt
I'll be there every time the sadness creeps in like a cold fog under a streetlight at midnight
I'll break my own back so you can have a spine
It hurts again
This familiar pain
The ache in your chest
The depressing rain
The gloomy sky
So high above
It feels cold
And chilly
And somehow wet
And it feels like
She always kept to herself
She stood in her head
Not once did she ever think about
Letting anyone else in
Until he came around
He held out a hand
She had never seen such a gesture
"Hey.. are you okay?
I see the smiles that you fake
The hurt as you turn away
When you bite your lip and pray
Wish they'd tell you it's okay But nothing seems to stay
When the world only sees mistakes
I'm the strong one
I'm not allowed to break
I'm the protector of others
I'm not in need of protection
I failed my purpose
I broke into pieces
I didn't protect her from me
Life is perfect now
it hasn't always been
see all of the problems started
around the time that I turned ten
My dad died when I was six
and then there came the coke
Mommy became addicted
Look in the mirror and seeIt's not broken butThe broken one here is meEven my reflection looks shattered
Cat-God.
Scars on human souls
like cracks on china plates,
stone-cold glue seeping from wounds
frozen mid-drip.
Cat-God.
Paws against old wood shelf,
one furry oaw on slick porcelain.
Do you think its ok
to keep trying
even though you are not
good enough
Do you think that
its ok to keep going
even though you have tried hard
but still have tasted defeat
for as long as i can remember, my father has carried
the weight of the world on his shoulders. it’s not
bodybuilding because the diabetes breaks everything
he creates. he doesn’t walk very far—or at all, for that
Hear me out.
Because I'm breaking.
I don't know if you're listening to me
Maybe you're just hearing me.
Mom
Dad
Sister
Friend
Everybody
Help me.
I
M
F
They call me Melody
Melody like a song
I stand alone as an independent individual
I stand out in the crowd of my school
the faggot in the reflection of my space helmet visor is my only friend.
with shaggy shorn hair and big eyes and a hollow cheek bone that holds in my silent tongue.
i have etched lessons in my skin, leaving silver lines
I have known this space for awhile now
But like some old jeans i grow tired of it
The thing that i thought protected me
Stops me from reaching my potential
The space that i enjoyed
I hardly watched my heart,
nestled warmly in my pocket.
Most days I hardly took notice.
But some I did.
I took it out,
and stared at the glass figure.
I began to toss the thing in the air.
im breaking.
listen to me
crumbling like stones.
i'm falling.
through the cracks,
i dont wanna be alone.
To the world, she is strong, resilient some say smart some say pretty others say talented, perfect.
Poor little thing,Your weakness lies within your strength. Presenting as a monument,So strong and assuring,No one bothered checking For those cracks in the porcelain. They saw the sculpture
A glass ballerina
Sits on the ground. Her
Arms form a loop
Above her head. Her face
Is raised towards the sky,
Watching the world above.
Light sparkles off her
Transparent body and creates
I stand before a two way mirror
Looking as a Widow
That is
Out of What (?).
The Fall gets longer, higher
As I stand
Unknown of what lies ahead.
Could be a World of bore
Or
Writing is an escape
From the things I can't control.
Because my other method to cope
Truly gives no control at all.
My life is wild and crazy
And the blades just make it hazy.
Are becoming so rough but nimble in my arms.
They are fading away so fast that I can't explain
or hold on.
Dare I say this world is too narcissistic to tell itself
its too frail?
