~songofthetrees
nobody
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Poems of the Broken-heartedShards of my glass heart that I gave to you I gave you my glass heart, And for awhile you kept it safe. But then, one day, You shared it to your friends, And they played with it. In the end they broke it. And you asked that even though My glass heart, Scratched and damaged, Was broken, If we could still be friends anyway. And I said I would try, As I picked up the pieces Of my broken heart. My friends helped me Glue the shards back together. I still see the cracks, A reminder Of the dangers of trusting my heart To love. &nbsPoems of the Broken-hearted
by ~songofthetrees
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a poem that is not about youthis poem is not a poem about you.a poem that is not about you
it is a boring poem a poem of mundane day-to-day things, like toothbrushes and broken buttons and leek and potato soup.
it most certainly
is not a poem about the way your smile fills my heart with the taste of caramelized pears and how your voice vibrates with a frequency that shocks electricity through my synapses and awakens the lilac and golden &n
by ~insideruby
FrustrationsI can't make my mind up about him.Frustrations
There are times when I think that we are meant for each other. That twenty years down the road we could be happily married with kids and a house and a bright future. I think that I could spend my whole life with him.
Then there are times that all I see are what make us incompatible. I find myself wondering if a relationship with him is even worth the effort or if it's just doomed to failure from the start.
Still, I want to be with him. It eats at me inside. I can't even tell if it's love or just lust. I just know that I desperately want to find out. But I'm afraid I mig
by ~oooh-shiny
Spinebone.She left the window open tonight to shiver out the food she couldn't purge. Left herself available, vulnerable, laid her corpse out with her ribcage regalia on display-- all breathe in breathe out with the quickening pace of the heartbeats in her head-- for the walls, for the sky, for the gawkers and the pointers and the perverts to see, oh, to see how fat and disgusting and terrible she really, really was.Spinebone.
She pressed play.
"... you're wrong, you know."
"Yeah, I'm wrong, then. You say I'm wrong, so--"
"...it must be true."
Ghosted lips and scripte
by *mythchan
Ok... I guess.
DefeatedDevious Info
- Current Residence: somewhere
- Interests: women's rights, books, Europe, Ancient History, soccer, mythology
- Favourite movie: The Dark Knight
- Favourite band or musician: Stars
- Favourite genre of music: Indie
- Favourite artist: Monet, Degas
- Favourite poet or writer: Jo Rowling, Robert Frost, C.S. Lewis, Margaret Atwood
- MP3 player of choice: iPod
- Shell of choice: conch shell
- Favourite game: Sly Cooper
- Favourite cartoon character: Jerry from Tom and Jerry
- Personal Quote: "I wonder if I am strong enough to appear weak."
- Tools of the Trade: Imagination
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