At Sixes and Sevens

Broken,

heart broken

Pain,

horrendous

but I spill no tears

harden resolve.

This isn’t the ending.

So much more.

But i can’t feel;
can’t think,
can’t imagine.

Break, break glass.
The smooth clean surface
I don’t remember, remember who I was
and i feel empty;

empty head

empty heart.

I don’t want this!

Longing, longing for love
Demon, overpowering
and I let it win.

Makes it better.
Becoming like heartache
everyone will understand.

Finally!

Finally, understand the pain,
the turmoil,
the loss of self.
And they’ll march to the beat.
Salvation, Fucked up salvation
and bittersweet revenge.

THANK YOU!

I’m enlightened.

…on to the next….

9 Comments

Filed under Mr. Stacker

9 responses to “At Sixes and Sevens

  1. Never. Never long for love. Its worse form of self-destruction.
    Amazingly written though. Lovely as always.

  2. Fight the demon, find yourself again. Walk through the pain and emptiness, it is the only way to have yourself whole again. If I understood this at all. It may be subjective. ;)

  3. Love this very, very poweful!

  4. I love the use of white space and spacing. It adds meaning to the poem that even words can’t add.

  5. I like the line “I spill no tears”. It’s a original way to say it.

  6. I really like your poem. It shows that not everything is perfect or good. I now what that’s like. And if you don’t think there is salvation(didn’t really understand the last part)then you are wrong. There is! salvation is sweet and no matter who you are ao what you have done you DO have salvation. janineyork is very right. Fight through the pain and hurt. I am trying to do so for I have given in. It is horrible. I want to come back and I pushed away the only friend that might be able to help so be careful what you do and DO NOT push away any friends you have. It does NOT help.

  7. A

    Painfully honest and vulnerable. Love this poem :-)

  8. J.R.Taylor

    When I wrote this…I had been in a very dark place for a long while. This was how I felt. Broken apart. Not making much sense. Hardened. Angered. So much was missing. Isolated in my own pain because I wouldn’t move on. It was my “fucked up salvation.”

  9. stringinalong

    Reblogged this on Str!ngin Along… and commented:
    Thoughts of pain…

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