[x]

Dead WrongDear Boy with the Broken Eyes.

Just because they have always said it, things have always been difficult. And they are right. Life has always been difficult. Things will never happen the way you want them to happen. Broken hearts are so much easier to find than mended ones. And dreams? Well, if the world ran on dreams, we'd be building a whole new universe already, just to escape our own jaded one.

When I met you, you had already seen the worst of this world. They told you that you were not allowed to love because you couldn't do it the right way. They informed you that you weren't a poet, just a vagabond with tragic fingers on a broken inst

Online"I have a problem."

"You always were a worrier."

"Don't you want to know what it is?"

"Not if it's going to worry me as well."

"That's precisely why you should know it."

"I really think I'll pass."

"But-"

"No."

"…"

"Thank you."

"But…this time it's a really big deal."

"Oh for the love of- All right. All right. You win. What is it?"

"What did you think the first time you met me?"

"That's not a problem, that's a question."

"I know."

"How am I supposed to answer it exactly?"

"I don't know if your mother explained this to you, but all you have to do is open your mouth and words-"

"Shut it, smart ass."

"Then answer the q

Never AgainThe rain boy had sworn that he would never again smile. His eyes always soaked the oceans with tears from his past and his heart was always dark and locked to anyone who could try and help him. His world had become so bleak and dark, that he stood in rooms of people that were a blur past him and a guitar that just no longer played.

So when the sunshine girl met the rain boy, for a second, the world stood still. In that tiny little balcony, where there was only space for two, the sunshine girl asked the rain boy, "When was the last time you smiled?"

The rain boy was startled for a second at someone talking to him, but he answered anyway, "I

Rebirth"You won't tell us then? What it's like?"

"..."

"Is it because you have something to hide?"

"..."

"Or is it because it never actually happened?"

"It happened."

"Then tell us. Tell us what is it like."

"I was always the girl whose family asks 'What is wrong with you.' instead of 'What is wrong with you?'"

"And this has nothing to do with my ques-"

"If they had all just asked...I would tell them. I would tell them that my heart was torn into hundreds and thousands. And my lungs were still crushed from footholds. And my brain still sees two little girls laughing and playing. And my legs hurt from dragging myself from basement

My InspirationYou once asked me what inspired me, sweet love;
And I shall tell what you want to hear...

It is a girl who isn't clever, but clever in what she knows
and a lost boy who knows exactly where he is going to go.
It is the scent of cologne and smoke and lovemaking
and a man who wears his heart on his sleeve
It is a woman who has always believed in her lover
and he will let her down no more
It is a sick man who is whole again
and the wife who stayed by his side
It is a writer who has found a brand new muse
and the paint of the artist who draws her lover
It is the words of a poet whose trust is renewed
and the warmth in the words of the

Seeking Solace"There is no solace in tears."

It took a moment for her to realize, her tears frozen in place that there was someone else in the room. The broken girl with rivulets of gleaming diamonds dripping down her face stared at the floor. "Leave me alone." She said softly and sobbed into her hands, still as broken as she was before.

A soft sigh came from the boy who spoke. Yet, he didn't leave her alone.

"There is no solace in words."

She looked up from her book, her fingers moving along the words like they were treasured pieces of gold, each one more valuable than the next. Her tears blurred the words, words she needed to take her away to another

Moving On"It all seems to be in order. Let me just read your last file."

"Thank you."

"It says here you used to have a girlfriend who was raped whilst you were with her?"

"Er…yes."

"Did she love you?"

"Yes. More than I could handle, I suppose."

"According to your file you told her she wasn't the one, and that her overfamiliarity with men led her to be in this situation?"

"Er…yes? But it's not like I told her she deserved to be raped, it was more-"

"Just yes or no answers would do. Did you do anything prior to this incident to make this girl feel loved?"

"Yes… I didn't cheat. I think that's enough for any relationship."

"It als

FailureShe was the Thief Girl with no faith and half a heart, and she didn't care if they never ever saw her soul anyway. She was almost content in the half broken life she had created for herself. Her fingers were always drenched in ink, her mind was always preoccupied with her treasure. Words stolen from conversations, from homes, from mouths that didn't need to speak any more.

She found the Lost Boy somewhere in an alley of poetry and a war of lyrics, fighting for his life with a broken piano and a worn tuxedo. She stole him before the bass viols, the gleaming guitars and the thrashing drums could kill him.

He fought with her all the way, telli

A History of ImaginariumWhen we were young, we believed. In myths, in legends, in stories beyond the wildest imagination of the best story teller in the world. Tomorrow always held surprises, new stories, and new worlds for our imaginations to explore. Everything began with 'Once upon a time' and ended with 'Happily ever after.' We lived in a land where we all owned pet tyrannosaurus rexes, maybe a few dragons, a sword that rivaled Excalibur and faeries and pixies, who just happened to make great playmates. Fae food for some reason always seemed to be so much better than your average meal, and who needs an adult to talk sense to, when you could have a talking lion?

TearsShe was the girl with eyes of burnt amber. But her eyes weren't always that way. It came from hiding a truth so harsh that her beautiful eyes had turned dark. She swore she could never fall in love.

He was the boy with a face shaped like a broken heart. But his face wasn't always that way either. It came from caring so much about someone that his heart was scratched in cruel, manicured fingers, mangled beyond belief. He swore he would never love again.

They met in a spinal corridor. Then in a courtyard. Then in a room which had a broken window. And finally in a doorway that was too small. And she was crying.

Diamond tears from burnt amber

LoveIt's the song on the radio that reminds you of what you had and what you lost.
It's the smile that a baby gives when she is genuinely happy.
It's the sound of a laugh from someone who hasn't laughed in a long, long time.
It's the friend who still remembers you even if you call after fifteen years.
It's the last piece of chocolate saved for you in a box you thought was empty.
It's the gift that is exactly what you needed, when you needed it.
It's the two hour ride across town, just so she can see you before she leaves.
It's the dog who waits for you to come home, just to give you all the affection in the world.
It's the companionship o

Gateway"Do you know what victory is?" asked a soft voice behind her.

The girl with the broken eyes didn't look up. She couldn't. She didn't want to. Her whole body was tattooed with the rain that had started hours before, her hair dripping with the sky's tears. She hadn't wanted to dry the sorrow of the weather from her skin; for fear that someone would see her own.

"I asked, do you know what victory is?" The voice was soft, but strong. And there was something about it that reminded her that she needed to pay attention.

She still didn't speak and a disappointed sigh came from the voice. It was as if the rain had stolen her voice.

"Victory is, wh

Judgement"You need to stop doing this."

"Stop doing what?"

"Writing me into your stories."

"...why?"

"Because…it scares me. I'm not this guy that you write about. I'm not some kind of Prince Charming and I'm certainly not a sea God or whatever you like to say about my eyes every now and then."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. You really need to work on your judgement of people, because this is all wrong. It's like you don't know me at all!"

"So why don't you correct me and I'll fix my idea of you accordingly."

"Well…firstly, I'm a really nervous person."

"Yeah. Your hands are either fiddling with your hair or your sleeve, or you're biting y

EternityThis is to the child I loved, the one I lost before I was meant to.
This is for the little girl who would have danced with me to the songs we were both meant to love.
This is for the angel who I was meant to have changed for, the little one whose heart was in my own.
This is for the girl who would have skipped to school, the baby who would have laughed.
This is for the song I couldn't sing, the poem I could never write.
This is for the moment in time that never existed, in a car that never moved.
This is for the second that could have been a lifetime, the forever that should have been ours.
This is for the darling who should have bee

Running Away"What are you afraid of?" He had asked her as they lay there, under a bay window that showed a velvet black sky, sprinkled with sparkling diamonds. After a few minutes, a hand reached out and took his. He looked down at the soft hand, paper white with rivulets of sapphire under the skin. It had never occurred to him just how much he loved her hands until now.

"Would you like the truth? Or will a lie suffice?" A dulcet voice whispered. She had still not turned to look at him, but her hand in his remained strong.

"The truth." He always asked her for the truth. He didn't want rubies of falsehood, of lies, to ruin what they had taken so long to

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Unbreakable"Hello."

"Do I know you?"

"You don't sing anymore."

"I'm..."

"It's just that I noticed. You don't sing anymore."

"I…have nothing left to sing about."

"Why?"

"Because I'm just a broken voice since he has gone."

"You are not a broken voice."

"You don't understand-"

"Your music sings through your bones. Don't give someone the power to take it away."

"But it hurts to sing."

"Your music saves you from falling. Don't push your savior away."

"I cannot…not anymore."

"Your music makes you into the beautiful girl with eyes that make us smile. Don't let your gift fail you."

"Please…stop."

"Your music, your voice is who you

RivalryHis name is Jack. I know that usually, I don't disclose much to you. But Jack is someone I need to tell you about. I have known Jack my whole life. He's been a best friend to me when the concept of best friends was nothing but some candy, and who led the gang in the playground. Commitment was a pair of bicycles thrown on the lawn and a race to the spiced lemonade his mother made so well. When we were young, we knew we were going to conquer the world. The battle was always, who would conquer it first?

Jack's father was an alcoholic. I will never forget that rainy afternoon when I opened the door to find him standing there, rain soaked tears s

Epiphany No. 289If I had known you before my heart had been broken once.
I would not have been the girl who you liked enough to say hello to.
If I had known you before my heart had been broken twice.
I would not have been the girl who understood your beautiful sad eyes.
If I had known you before my heart had broken thrice.
I would not have been the girl who felt your music in her sore heart.
If I had known you before my soul was ripped from me.
I would not have been the girl who appreciates you the way I do.

If I hadn't been damaged,
You would never have wanted to know me.

They say the universe works in mysterious ways.
And you, you are my mysteri

Making History"What do I mean to you?"

She was sitting there, wearing that dress that made her look like a Thursday night just before a long weekend, and a smile on her lips that could have confused the Mona Lisa herself.

"What do I mean to you?"

It was not like she had to repeat herself. It's just that he needed to find an answer that would find its way to her thrice broken heart.

"What do I mean to you?"

And since the third time's the charm, he opened his mouth and let her know.

"You aren't pretty.
You aren't lovely.
You aren't any of the things that make the world go around.
You aren't a doll, you never do what you're told.
You aren't a lis

Complicated"You know, personally speaking, I don't think you're really unwell at all."

"I'm sorry, are you the one who is sick or am I?"

"There is nothing wrong with you."

"Can you say that again?"

"I said, you aren't sick!"

"Whatever. The receptionist is calling me in, anyway."

"You're a hypochondriac."

"What?! Listen you-"

"Look, just go inside. I'm sure the doctor will say the same thing."

"Fine!"

*

"So. What did the doctor say?"

"That it's complicated."

"Complicated?"

"Yeah. They need to run more tests and figure it out."

"Really?"

"You sound skeptical."

"You told him that you only get 'sick' in history class."

"Yes."

"And about h

Introductions"Hi, I'm-"

"I know who you are."

"You do?"

"You're the guy who thinks he's invisible."

"I have a name-"

"It isn't important. Because you really don't think it's important."

"All right. Since we've started out this way, let me just tell you, I know you too."

"Yeah?"

"You're the girl who is broken."

"I am not broken."

"You're the girl whose eyes close every night and open the next morning, only to find you have never slept at all."

"I sleep well. Besides-"

"You're the girl who dreams of a happy ending even though she has seen seventeen...no, eighteen unhappy ones in her eighteen years."

"Happy endings are over rated. And you're-"

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Submitted: November 19, 2011
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Happy

by *UntamedUnwanted, Nov 19, 2011, 6:57:04 PM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

You looked. I glanced. We met. I smiled. You smiled back. A sentence here. A metaphor there. A memory we both found beyond repair. I shared. You listened. You shared. I heard. You paused. And then I kissed you.

We're happy.

Fingers pressed skin. Then danced apart. I teased. You laughed. You joked. I grinned. Stairwells were dreamcatchers. Stars were destinies. Guitars became epiphanies. More words. More memories. More to admit. More to regret. You were damaged. I was broken.

We're happy.

You stopped smiling. I didn't laugh. Words began to go unspoken. Regrets emerged. Fingers didn't touch. Lips faltered. Stairwells were nightmare holders. Stars were dead light from the skies. Guitars became dust ridden.

We're happy.

Words became unspeakable. Memories were untrustworthy. Your eyes told lies. My hands betrayed me. We broke apart before we had a chance to be. I became distant. And you...you were gone.

I'm happy.

Now repeat until you believe it.

I'm happy.
I'm happy.
I'm happy
I'm...

Happyby *UntamedUnwanted

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

It's 3 a.m. I'm still awake. I'm losing sleep. I'm losing myself.

I'm losing you.

So I write this tonight. I write it for everyone of us who has suffered. Every one of us who is broken. Every one of us who has a damaged soul. Every one of us whose brilliant scarlet became just another red.

This is for us, the broken ones.

And for the ones who broke us in two.

love 4 4

joy 4 4

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

sad 14 14

fear 1 1

~~neutral 0 0~~

~Nisakine Feb 10, 2013

To know we are not the only one broken in the world is sometimes the only thing we can hang on to some days. Thank you for writing this.

~coconatsu Aug 5, 2012 Student General Artist

Your words make my heart ache..... How can something so broken be so beautiful?

~MusicalKate Aug 5, 2012 Student Photographer

This definitely caught my eye and I'm so glad I read this. I can relate to it so well, along with many others and you've described it in perfectly powerful words. Thank you for touching our hearts, it's meant so much.

~skruffy123 Aug 4, 2012 Professional General Artist

stone strikes stone, fractures become fissures, our forms are crushed, lying in pieces we tell our selves we are whole.

~tiraluv Jul 31, 2012

I love this in all of it's dark glory. Allow me to insert a hopeful euphemism. We are not the broken ones. We are the healing ones. Eventually the pain will leave. Despite the horror of the present, there is hope for the next second, minute, hour, day, week, month, year... at one point... we will be well again.

~A-Lovely-Anxiety Jul 30, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you.

~magic6jewls Jul 17, 2012 Student Writer

I'm more saddened by the description than the artwork itself. You got me at "I'm losing you." I'm not sure why the entire piece left me untouched, but perhaps it's just because it's so similar to everything else I've seen (I've seen too much!). Either way, I'm touched by your writing.

!ballerina-chick May 8, 2012

Thanks for writing such a great poem.... it was easy to relate to (as you can see)
and many people (like me) need something to relate to.

Im broken...
but the fourth paragraph wasnt an option for me.
He didnt give us a chance to fail.

I may be broken inside, but outside I am happy.

*UntamedUnwanted May 17, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you for writing to me. I am sad to hear that you're not happy. I can only wish and pray for your happiness and offer an ear to listen. I hope you are doing better by the time I have responded to you.

!ballerina-chick May 17, 2012

Hey thanks... im better now
I think that day i was just having a meltdown :/

Thanks for your nice words and keep up the awesome poetry.

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