Broken things

 She always liked to play

With broken things

With torn and tattered toys 

She'd sewn together with strings

She'd tinker with old clocks

That had lost their time

Pulling apart pieces

To see what she'd find 

Cogs and gears with missing parts  

And old rusted chimes

That used to play sweet melodies

During far away times

Those times when things

Still seemed precious and new

But those times never

Seemed to really be true

She knew that time

Broke all things in the end

But every thing broken

Was a chance to mend

Two broken clocks

Could be made into one

 A mixture of pieces could make

Time's damage undone 

For her, Life was a chance 

To fix, tinker, and toy. 

A harmless way to pass the time, 

Until she met the Broken boy. 

There the Broken boy stood 

watching her, all alone

The shattered shell of steel

Hiding what she had known.  

She'd known broken things

All of her life

Every chink in his armor

A story of strife

She reached out to him

And got out her strings

She knew what to do

When she saw broken things

She worked at the armor

A tinker's great pride 

But no matter how much

She continuously tried

She just couldn't mend

his broken shell

It had spent too much time

In the depths of time's hell

Time broke all things

She'd known it was true

But time also loses pieces

And she knew what to do

The shell was hiding 

What he was missing inside

The shattered steel a mask

Of what he wanted to hide 

Emptiness filled him

From years of lost trust

His once beating heart

Now crumbled to dust 

Silence was a comfort 

Being alone hid the truth 

His emptiness a reminder 

Of what he had been through 

He had given his heart

To the master called time

Now each day for him

Was a mountain to climb

Each step weighed down

By his shattered steel

Hoping that his eyes

Wouldn't reveal

But she could see the broken thing

hiding behind those cold eyes

She could see that his armor

Was his dark disguise. 

So she got to work

With scissors and strings

She knew that new pieces

Could fix broken things

She had so little to offer 

Except for one part

So she tore open her chest

And pulled out her heart

She opened his armor

And placed her heart in his chest

Stepping back as it beat

Watching where it now rest

He is still a broken thing

But his eyes shine anew

No longer alone 

Because now she's a broken thing too

My Muse

Baby be my muse
I'll write about sway of your moods
Let ink drip from my finger tips
As I write prose of your lips
Let my words spin their tale
Of a strong beating heart that's hopelessly frail
I'll paint poetry that stretches for miles
Each one noting the sounds of your smiles

All the rest...

If all the rest was silence... 
Would you miss my voice? 
Would you wish you'd held my laughter in your hand? 
Would you hope to hug my cries if given one more chance?

If all the rest were darkness...
Would you miss my face?
Would you wish you could see the blushing of my cheeks? 
Would you hope to watch the day two lives grew into one?

If all the rest were emptiness...
Would you miss my heart?
Would you wish you had felt it's strumming march?
Would you hope to taste the fury of what could have been?

If all the rest were nothing...
Would you miss me?
Would you wish you'd had done more to hold on?
Would you hope to live life twice just to try again?

Words

I’ve got words 

oozing out of my ears
Pages of dilapidated fears
And faded daydreams
and muted screams
Scribbled franticly
Each word a broken memory
hammered to the walls of my brain
like old photographs
Frozen faces staring warily
trying to make sense of the insanity
But only finding sadness and anxiety
And more words

My mind is a sheet of musical nonsense
Smudged by black inked fingers
The melody slowly lingers
At the tip of my tongue
Muted by flock of mutated words
Each syllable a beating wing crashing
Like symbols
Words form a beautiful, booming symphony
Drowning the sound of normalcy
Until all that’s left is oddity

My head is a forest of
Imagery and metaphors
And bitter irony
Hyperbole of moons long ago
Words that ebb and flow
Like the tide
As it runs from the storm
Words swim around like sharks
Smelling blood
Eating away at reality
Leaving little slivers of rationality
Twisted up in poetry

These words accumulate
To create my existence
A current of creativity
That spins me constantly
Until my fingertips itch with electricity
A maddening mind
Crumbling at the attempt
To hold all the words in
Always lost in the question:
Why?
But never able to find the answer
As it hides
Behind lost corridors
Full of dusty, forgotten stories

My mind is an open book
Full of blank pages
And crumpled half written sheets
Always left incomplete
Scribbles and doodles
Crowd the corners
Those perfect words always
Just out of reach
Trapped behind book shelves
And old photographs

I dream of days
Where I can tame
The words that keep falling
Cascading like water
calling for the Peace
at the bottom of their journey
They drip from my ears
Forming whispered fears
And silver lined day dreams
And screams of joy
And fits of laughter
They stream from my finger tips
Like a beautiful disaster
Never knowing how to
Push the brakes
Instead just pushing past mistakes
Expecting to clean them up later
Until all that you can see
Is red ink and insecurity.

I tried to temper the absurdity
But that just isn't me
Control comes with a cost
And words are too wild
To be treated like a child
The harder I tried
To control them
The quicker they’d fade
Like a heart betrayed
They ran from my clenched fingers
Control means losing me
To the façade
Of sanity
I’d rather hold on to my creativity.
With lose fingers
and an open mind
In hopes that I find
The answer to that question.

Digital Humans

We live somewhere between 
Shattered hopes and broken dreams
"One days" ripped at the seams.
By the onslaught of digital opinions
Defacing hopes as pathetic tropes 
Reminding you of your lack of originality 
“Someday” seems like it up and left
Those dreams bereft of sustenance.
When #thatgirl did it 'like' forty times already
That future reverie now suddenly seems unsteady.

Nightmares trapped
in a daydream's clothing
A mellow glowing
non-reality that seemed so soothing
Until the screams start booming
Ringing in your head like Quasimodo's bells
Each scream vibrates with loaded
trolling commentary
Reminding you of
Failures, losses, being broken
All those things you wanted left unspoken

Those faceless voices
start controlling you
Until you lose yourself completely
Nothing left but
the skin of what you used to be.
Just a soulless, hopeless profile picture
Of what you want them to see.
Just skin and empty eyes and tragedy.
Lost in harsh reality

We live on fragments of choppy memories,
digitally remastered stories,
and long lost glories
of a time some other us used to live.
We die crossing ravenous waters
Crashing Waves
of insecurity, humility, morality.
Staying afloat on a boat built from HTML coding

The weak’s only defense
Against their own fading human mind
Is to find someone else to make weaker
Building strength with digital jousting
Shots fired with each ping
Every notification
a violation of privacy, decency, humanity
Worth dictated by
Double taps and profile likes won
Instead of good deeds done
Words holding more weight
Than action can negotiate.

The rest of us
Unable to wage the war
Against our fading minds
And cyber expectations
Just hold on
To those shattered dreams
And broken hopes
Before we choke
On our total lack of electronic existence
And resistance to being seen
as nothing more
Than a shell of skin
And memories of days we used to live in
Held in time by a post
half lived, half lost
Behind the frosted tint of lenses

Here and there

 Here
Inside my mind 
I am naturally controlled
Manipulated by strings 
held
With nimble fingers
Open and willing to be
what and when and how ever
I'm needed
Here
I will bend to the will of those pieces of me
So vital
Let them take over
And harness the me of me so often left
Unheard, unseen

But
through the open door
And
Across the threshold
I Shatter into another
Don't confuse who I am
Here
And who I am out
there

There
I am calculated and careless
Damaged and dauntless
Terrified of the nothingness
But Limited by nothing else
A fractured fragility covered
By duck tape and do overs
There
I am strong willed
The spark igniting
the fire that lights the way
Minimal but pivotal...

But I'm always waiting, hoping, wanting
To be here
Where I can release control
To those nimble fingers
That help me lose my mind