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Literature Text
What is an Emotional Heart?
Like an angel on earth, it is a rare sight in this age of masks and stone hearts.
So very soft and warm that one who has it has no fear of becoming cold and distant.
It is in tune with the feelings of others and
can soften the blow of an insult or pain;
absorb the tears of another;
give comfort and warmth to those who need it.
Yet with that blessing of a kinder heart
comes a terrible curse...
Because of its softness,
its openness,
the emotional heart is easier for it to be
Ripped
and torn
into shreds,
broken and shattered like glass.
The pieces so
numerous and far-flung,
that it cannot be fixed by itself.
Someone kind and nice would have to help the once happy helper pick up the pieces and tape them together, slowly and carefully, for it could break at any instant.
Finally, with much tape and time, the heart can be fixed.
However, it becomes colder and harder in an attempt to protect itself from being broken
Again.
If it is broken too much...all of its warmth is gone, its gentleness turned to stone.
And it becomes like the rest of the hearts of stone.
Like an angel on earth, it is a rare sight in this age of masks and stone hearts.
So very soft and warm that one who has it has no fear of becoming cold and distant.
It is in tune with the feelings of others and
can soften the blow of an insult or pain;
absorb the tears of another;
give comfort and warmth to those who need it.
Yet with that blessing of a kinder heart
comes a terrible curse...
Because of its softness,
its openness,
the emotional heart is easier for it to be
Ripped
and torn
into shreds,
broken and shattered like glass.
The pieces so
numerous and far-flung,
that it cannot be fixed by itself.
Someone kind and nice would have to help the once happy helper pick up the pieces and tape them together, slowly and carefully, for it could break at any instant.
Finally, with much tape and time, the heart can be fixed.
However, it becomes colder and harder in an attempt to protect itself from being broken
Again.
If it is broken too much...all of its warmth is gone, its gentleness turned to stone.
And it becomes like the rest of the hearts of stone.
Literature
the ghost
I don't know what I'm waiting for,
because I am a ghost and yet
I sit on my hands and wonder
where you've been -
I walk the forest in circles,
the methodical crunch
of leaves beneath my feet
and I remember
that you made me feel small,
and alone. here I am, facing
this brilliant hue that is me and myself
and I am the ghost but somehow
you are haunting me.
Literature
NaPoWriMo #6
small human, they say
like it's something to be astonished about, something unusual
when they find me on top of an office chair, wheels unlocked
(a skill perfected years ago, really nothing to worry about, shoes on the floor)
or that time I climbed through a small window at work just to see if I could
(I could, with the ever faithfull help of a chair)
much to the amusement of my colleage
(no, I didn't tell my boss. I wonder if she heard anyway)
small human, a friend says
and hooks unto my hand as I lead the way through the crowds
(I always find my way through, there's always room for me)
or that time when we managed to get to the front row o
Literature
tiny vessels
god cried for us that afternoon
on the rocks, if I could be so
selfish; you had your hands
grasping at my empty vapors before
I’d had the chance to whisper
to you. I see you
shaking. I know you’re
hungry and I know
the temperature of your
eyes when you lie. you
said you were lonely.
half-truths are the essence
of symbiotic relationships, your
fingers trailing along my hips,
glacier blue eyes holding me
still. the rapids churned. god
cried for me that afternoon.
he was selfish, too.
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Almost like prose...yet isn't.
Not the best I've made, I admit, but that's what came to me
View, and comment, criticism or compliment.
Not the best I've made, I admit, but that's what came to me
View, and comment, criticism or compliment.
© 2011 - 2024 TheCriticofInnocence
Comments26
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This is a great poem. I love it!