Fragments of a Female Consciousness….

nothing more than neurotic & divinely chaotic thoughts.

Porcelain…

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Standing alone in a warm shower,
Words trickle down like an unfolding flower.

So very full is my head, words swirling, lines strung together, a prose unsaid. Much too many words to keep, they flow & slowly seep…

I try to keep it in, ever so. Ribbons held so tight. Keep it all together, don’t let go, fight.

My porcelain face & eyes, the smoothest smile. A crack, ever so small. Just enough for the cascade to escape.

Out it all falls, tears down my cheeks and blood out of my veins. And then you can you see, bare and vulnerable.

My beautiful porcelain now fragmented and my ugly revealed. I stand before you my organs on display.

You see, now take a step back. An infectious sticky cotton candy black. Now take a step back.

Hope, love, faith, meaning and purpose. An ocean lost in the blue of my porcelain eyes, hoping for a repair.

Love, I suspect she is unable now. Ideals filtered through her romantic sensibility. All however so very empty.

My one and only epic gesture held in my hand. The burn so hot, nothing left but ash that disintegrates with your touch.

Aware of my own desires, but ignorant the burn had left me forever fragmented. All in pieces and beyond repair.

Unconscious to the definitive outcome. Notes forever lost in my silent screams. And then I saw, the reflection empty.

The capacity to love forever lost, caught in the current and washed out to the horizon, forever out of my reach.

There once was a perfectly flawed porcelain doll, her epic love for him transcended her own reality and gave flight to her wings.

There once was a beautiful empty young boy who played with the porcelain doll like two dollar toy.

He thought her cheap and easy to replace. Her love and divine chaos gone to waste. Cracked,discarded and forever lost.

The perfectly flawed porcelain doll, in her fragmented black glory, stands years from this time.

Her hands hold it all carefully together, her thoughts all but lost in a tedious little rhyme.

Her visible cracks dissolve and reappear. How tight can she keep the black ribbons today? She’ll hold them firm and what a lovely smile they will say….

DC

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