Beautiful, Broken Creatures (new poem)

There are too many truths here not to reblog.

Broken People

“Some days, some hours, we soar.
Hawks, eagles, miles above sea level, worshiping the splendor below.
The wind lashing around us, we are boundless…complete…

Other times we bleed – dreadful children,
scraping our way through a field of shattered glass and dreams.

Yet we carry on, feigning normalcy;
actors, playing the part assigned to us by the others,

All the while perishing.

All the while feeling as if we’re unique to desperation.

Can no one feel the tears?
Can no one see our heartbreak?
Has no one the same perception of hopelessness we possess?

Hanging in the eternal balance,
somewhere between life and death,

We watch the years tick-tick-tick by,
soul gradually unburdening itself from skeleton,
ever so gently, as mortality snakes in.

Frantic, we grasp the nearest olive branch,
be it friend or foe,
cleaving to any veneer of chance.

As water sashays through our fingers, though,
we frightfully…

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