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.

The End

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