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Image for the poem I made her broken

I made her broken


today she is a part of melancholy, rubbing against
a part of melody, attempting to make a poem.
and tonight, she is merely this: a piece of ass.

to fall in wet splinters from fragmented clouds, sailing across a
praetorian sky, guided by a wind that wayward blows, is to be the
rain. she who walks under tumbling icelings to scour remarkable
tears from her face, dragging broken desires & the hardships of
common days in her wake, is to be a woman. a woman in the rain.

they fly to me like fallen angels who were safe in the arms of heaven
until they encountered my desolate tales. they want to know the
secrets of my passion, & their white gowns come off easily. we spend
intimate nights that fade when the spell or a heart is broken; they
find their wings & are gone, & I’m alone again…

…till the next angel falls.

and she, she was not so different from me. we have loved someone, &
someone has loved us. we have danced with the decadent & slept in
straw beds, & we understood how the broken things remain beautiful.

if I could gather the parts that she gave freely, the parts I stole for the
craving of my nefarious pursuits, her hidden sorrows, the pieces of her
clandestine heart that prevailed; if I could stitch those parts together,
I would have a whole woman.

her song has one refrain: unlock my heart, captive of love that binds
us, though we are each alone on separate sides of the horizon. beat
down the door, leave me broken, & somehow I will come to you.
take away these chains.


to which I respond

Tereska…


(Artist unknown)

                             
Written by JohnFeddeler
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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