1) broken.
sometimes i think it would be easier if it was visible, my brokenness.
like a part of me was visibly missing.
maybe if my face was deformed or i was missing my left hand,
and the word "broken" was written somewhere like my irises
or in between the pale pink of my lips.
that way it would be there. out in the open.
i could say so much without uttering a single word.
the cardboard boxes full of valuables have it easy.
F R A G I L E.
it's written right on them, plain as day,
warning people to be careful while handling.
if it's shaken or shoved around, it'll get broken.
you just needed a seven letter word to warn me
and save your heart from my clumsy hands.
2) forget.
a word that often echoes in my mind, usually falling after a "don't."
i am terrified my forgetfulness will betray me,
so i write all the important things down.
somewhere in my secret memos are descriptions of;
the first time our lips pressed.
how you tore your heart in pieces in front of me.
and the most beautiful laugh i've ever heard.
i'm so tired of this word.
i've lost count of how many times i've been told to forget.
but you keep dialing silent phone calls and sealing empty letters,
just trying to remember to forget me.
i forget things like what day it is and simple math
and to mean it when i say "i love you,"
though i still can't forget you.
3) empty.
i used to think you, your heart, and your eyes were empty,
but i had just stolen them.
you are undeniably the most silent person i've ever met.
only your silence isn't empty,
it's filled with the secrets i wasn't meant to know.
you are full of dreams and lies and fake happiness.
i'm full of shattered glass and torn edges and empty.
my twitching hands are empty.
they want to be filled with words that speak truth
and tears that tell stories.
my palms dream of warmth and love and your hands,
filling up the free space between my fingers.
my hands dream of your hands.
do your hands dream of mine?
4) cry.
i'm terrified, completely terrified to cry.
so many things tempt me, though;
your own silent tears, your silly dreams,
but most of all when you hand me those piles
of your tears and dreams, and call them your heart.
and the oceans of tears i hide so deeply beneath my own chest
could flood entire deserts in seconds.
i can't cry because it makes me feel too weak.
i can't cry because you'd be disappointed in the mess.
i can't cry because i refuse to let anyone in on the truth.
i can't cry because i spend so much time holding it all in, that it'd be a waste.
i can't cry because i can't find the time.
i can't cry because i don't know how.
i can't cry because you'll never be around long enough to teach me.
5) locked.
have you ever felt locked out from anything?
anything at all?
and you just can't get in.
i can see you're completely blocked from the one thing you want,
upset and disgruntled because you don't know the way inside.
but even though you don't want to admit it,
you're locked out of my heart.
i keep thinking you'll give up.
but some days i still see you locked outside,
face growing red from frustration.
you keep pushing against the door frames,
pounding and pleading for entrance.
i'm sorry that i made you feel that way.
but don't lose the key next time, okay?
Author notes
i really can't decide if i like this or not. i'm still messing around with it, though.
i'm completely open to suggestions on ways i can fix this!
A contest entry
- Prewrites, show me what you got. by GraveyardGoddess.
400 points, ended July 22, 97 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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i really really enjoyed the first half of this poem is was well thought out and it flowed nicely. The crying part seemed a little repetitive to me although that is just my opinion. You are very good writer and i very much enjoyed your poem. I can relate to it very well and that makes it an even better read. best of luck to you in your contests.
keep up the great writing.
great job -
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the point of the crying part was the repetition. but i'm glad you related to it and liked it at least!
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Up until the spill about crying.. It was beautiful. Artfully placed words. There are so many lines that I'm pressed me it'd take far too long to list them. It just got a little long I think. But I really felt the secretive silence. And the stanza about forgetting was phenomenal. There was something very raw and achingly open about it. About silent phone calls and empty letters. It was a good read, I would simply crop.
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originally the poem was 3 words, but then 'empty' and 'cry' came along and i knew i had to stuff them in there. i know it's long, but i think i'll keep it that way. each stanza was seven lines long because for some reason i don't like the number seven, and it was the whole idea of things i'm afraid of and such. plus, it was a lot of venting for me and things i've been wanting to get out for a while. thanks for the advice, though. i'm glad you enjoyed it, even if it was a little lengthy!
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nice
its nice but its real verbose. less words and more imagery... would make it a great poem...keep it honest and true just add some more images...my twitching hands are empty.
they want to be filled with words that speak truth
and tears that tell stories.
my palms dream of warmth and love and your hands,
filling up the free space between my fingers.
my hands dream of your hands.
do your hands dream of mine?
these lines are wonderful..
Patrick
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thanks! i'm trying to work on imagery, it's one of my weaknesses i think.
i'm glad you liked that part about hands, i was nervous it sounded misplaced.
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Original.
The title got my attention right away.
I enjoyed this to be honest.
I';ve felt the same.
Thanks for entering,
Good luck darling.
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