The mirror we thought was our reflection,
                           now cracked and distorted.

For were we really looking deep enough,
or were we just hoping that what we saw
                       was a true reflection of love.

Not a fun house mirror of regret.
                           Not showing the true extent
of what we saw.

But a reflection of what we wanted.



                          Truth is never that kind...

Cracked China cup
At a chipped table
Stained cloth dressing
Do you still see
Beautiful
Tell me now
As broken candles
Burn
        On
Down
Broken things
See broken things
And cracks hide
Truth
I see you
This crack’ed thing
And I see you
Beautiful
Lovely you
Cracked
But not outdone
They try to
Break you
Take you
Because you’re the only
One
A cracked cup
That runneth over
But
Can still hold your
Own
Oh precious
How you’ve grown
Setting a place that
You deserve
I pray that
You are filled
Cracks only
Show
When you can’t
Hold

But I’d gladly hold
You

i am.
like an old porcelain doll
cracked.
i don't want to be dropped
I'll shatter,
pieces all over the floor.
on a shelf i sit
next to others sitting pretty
in dresses and makeup
looking like people they aren't.
i am quiet but honest
because i need protecting.
i know where i've been recently
i've been covered in dust
sitting alone
in a room with no one to hold me.
pushing myself off the shelf,
allowing the cracks to move
across my
body.

I have not a  Chip
My heart tends to beat Skip

Bitten lower lip Quivers
Shaken bow Sharp Arrows
Archer Aimed Deadshot Insane

Sadness seams ripped to Smiles I Delivered
None the less soul shook to shiver
Sharpen up that attitude
For briefest of care for the endless brood

I do have some cracks
Spackle specked front to back
Sorrow shallowly sunk skin deep
Toddler to Teen to  Twenty-nineteen
Tirelessly testing Me

Broken Little Pieces
Have indeed befallen Me
But Here is the Trick to Treat
My Broken Little Pieces
Like Stem Cells
Not to be rid of
Instead held aside
to review
to reflect

For a Better You
Lies within even the Broken View

So Cracked, Chipped, or Broken
These are the Ingenium Gems Unspoken
Pressure Pressed, Stress and all the Mess
We Push, Plead, FIGHT  aloud
Broken Little Pieces

Mine Make Me Proud

I don’t think I see you anymore;
I don’t see anything besides the
Dangling red-stones and reckless curls,
Sun-kissed smile shivering for more
I cant comply to.
I don’t want to lose you to the life you can’t give up and I lose myself every other day to
Monotony. Maybe
You could end that?
I’m tired
And blind
And I can’t stop seeing your hidden sort of side—The one that glances at the person you wish I wore
And writes of all the sensuous aspects of the world.
See these fake words you assign me, I am not a crisp morning
Or beckoning sea breeze entangling you in lust and mystery—I’m frozen.

I don’t know what else to say now,
Standing in the un-lit streets of memories unwinding—holding close the heart I guess I broke—Staring at your shifting soul,
I wonder who I would have been without you
And who I will become once you are gone.
Love-Locked looks I hide inside,
Beside my permanently damaged sense of pride.
So instead of any other sad display
I’ll tell you
You look more beautiful every day.

I let go and fall, fall, fall — ever so deep —
Into the cracks between your pieces
They’re the only way to your heart.
Let me swim through the crevices
Like a diver in the mines.

Ive struck gold.

@sheherazad.poetry

As though her skin was stained porcelain white
She slipped back down from the sky cracked and marred
Though every second of my gaze was wasted
As in her final instance; before departure
She was stained porcelain white