Unremarkably Broken

My sorrow did not birth beauty
The edges of me perhaps too jagged, too small
Left with nothing to create but too much to feel

I cannot hang my anguished life on the wall
I am unable to pen my bleeding heart for the suffering
I could never sing to my fellow fragmented souls


My madness never created genius
It only left me grief for who I should have been
I could have been something to someone

I could have healed.
I sing alone.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

As Chris said, you do not sing alone. In our aloneness as poets, there is a togetherness as well.
Lots of madness and some genius does arise from that.

[Chris]

No ...you don't sing alone. As poets we give OUR voice to our perceptions; but, the perceptions are shared with every view of our 'thoughts' and hence others perceive us and themselves anew. Relevancy is where common points converge - and yours are quite relevant with so many more than you give yourself credit for reaching.

[Matthew Kult]

Darkly jealous, sorrowfully insecure.

Lovely read

With love

Matthew

[poison&kerosene]

Perfect short and sweet. Jealous of a woman that never existed. Thank you for stopping by!