Broken
written 21/1/11
See that girl in the corner? She's broken.
Many tears have flowed down those fragile cheeks.
She smiles and laughs but clouds are near:
omnipresent in her sky.
Have you ever had crazy desires? She has.
Fantasy played a great role: her mind
was full of the stuff
when she searched
for those cats
in her street.
There was a day when she took
a long, hot shower.
She then wore her 'jammies
and climbed into bed.
Straight after school.
That's irrelevant.
She lay,
wrapped in warmth,
and shed tears of pain
as she stroked a part
of the coverlet.
And it Hurts So Much
when the thought choice made by Subconscious
is of that dearly missed, departed one.
And she focuses -
grief becomes sharper.
She senses her unwholeness
as it gnaws at her soul.
She feels despair, feels bleak
and cold
as the sun sets upon
her positive feelings.
The night within her
forms a hole.
Emptiness fills her -
the rough edges if its
failed attempt at conquest
her sorrow.
When life is dark, we hide away
yet she allows her grief to stay.
‘To lie that afternoon in bed
was nice though pain to me,' she said.
‘I curled up like a foetus pink
and gave myself a chance to think.'
Her words though gentle underlie
a mind and heart that love define.
She sits alone without her cat
and poetry she loves to write.
See that girl over there in the corner?
Which one?
That one.
Where?
There.
Has she faded altogether from perception?
No, that is one of her misconceptions.
I think I see her now. Over there with the frown?
Can you blame her, John?
Can I?
No; poor thing: she's broken.





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