Posts Tagged ‘broken’

“I may not be a whole person, but that isn’t going to prevent me from trying to be a good one.”- Original

You may be broken. That’s fine. Use that as momentum. Be the best that you can be.

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“A friend of mine once wrote that she falls a little bit in love with every person she meets. I want to believe I do that too- but then I realize that if I fall in love with everyone, that means my heart is going to be broken quite a lot.”- Original

…and part of me says let it.

“Words and eggs must be handled with care./Once broken they are impossible/things to repair.” ~Anne Sexton, from her poem “Words” in “The Awful Rowing Toward God”

It’s an awful thought to have- 

the thought that you may have come between two people.

If you believe yourself to be

a Bighearted person,

then do not let anger

or grief fester

in your thoughts,

or come across in your deeds.

This may seem so easily said,

and not so easily done,

but the truth is

that bighearted people

are most easily broken,

but also the most forgiving.

A big heart

is a house,

with thousands of rooms

for guests-

for every person

the heart’s owner

has ever met.

Metaphorical hearts can only be large

if they leave room for love,

and force hatred

out their doors.

“Each morning when the sun is shining, I look out the window and see how perfectly shaped the clouds are and how bright blue and inviting the sky is, and I fall in love with that morning. But the next day, I wake up and see that the sky is gray, and my heart is broken.
I think that’s why people become so wrapped up within themselves. We’re afraid to fall in love with things we know will break our hearts.”- Original

No less an organ

than the cardiac muscle

and sinew

of a regular human heart.

This heart dreamt.

It dreamt of love

in two hands, clasped;

in four eyes, twinkling;

in lips and words, whispered

and shouted,

and gestures and laughter

and memories

that have yet to be made.

Some of these dreams

turned into wishes,

and the wishes became so strong

they turned into prayers-

much like a chick

turns into a fledgling,

than spreads its wings

and flies.

The heart was shattered

by promises

that held as much weight

as stardust,

sweet words

that disguised the taste of cyanide,

and its own dreams

which it believed too much in

and had its natural rhythm disrupted by.

The shattered fragments

of the glass heart

belong to me.

They dig into my ribs

and say don’t believe

too strong

in dreams.

is not impossible.

Van Gogh’s body fought off gangrene

to live with it.

Orpheus survived the depths of Hell

to live with it,

for however short a time.

It may be difficult,

one may become a phantom,

or cycle through labyrinths of fire, water, and snow,

but they will survive.

The human heart has adapted

to be a phoenix:

reborn with new fervor

after fizzling out.