See: My Broken F-ing Heart
Scraps on the floor, a maybe poem
The dumbest shit I’ve ever done is miss you. That might hurt your feelings but it’s true. Can you imagine pining for somebody who felt little more than relief when it was through?
The dumbest shit I’ve ever done is want you when you were busy adding up my many sins. How tragic that I was a person so imperfect that you’d rather shut me out than let me in.
Was I even worthy at the start? What tipped the balance toward a broken heart? What flaw could weigh more than all my love? What moment brought the conviction we should part?
The dumbest shit I’ve ever done is beyond belief. Years stretch to hold my love and now my grief. It might hurt your feelings, but it’s true. See: my broken fucking heart and your relief.
scraps of paper on the floor. ink-stained fingers curled in repose. tear tracks shimmer in the sunlight. curtains beckon from a window. no one closed
pictures hidden inside frames. behind smiling figures, no one sees. I could no more remove them. than erase the name. that floats like dust. to land on me
grief ripples in this state of rest-unrest. scraps of paper scatter like autumn leaves. tears dry. as if they never were. lovers leave as though. they never loved me
I wake and life is just the same. no paper scraps or trace of tears. curtains settle near picture frames. I stretch and grief finds. no solace here.
About the Creator
Crystal Jackson is a former therapist turned author. Her work has been featured on Medium, Elite Daily, NewsBreak, Your Tango, and The Good Men Project. She is the author of the Heart of Madison series and 3 volumes of poetry.
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