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Array ( [sid] => 180788 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Mismatched heart [time] => 2015-03-16 14:49:12 [hometext] => To J.R [bodytext] => Strong enough to be a warrior
but weak enough to fall apart
Alone...I walk,
picking up the pieces of my broken heart

They lay scattered in every crevice
that I didn't seek to find
What I didn't think to do in the process
was leave my soul behind

Tried putting the shards back together,
but it fell somewhat slack
Not all the pieces fit,
they were mismatched

I walk alone down the path that still leads to you
the pieces of my heart silently falling away
one by one they go,
until none are here to stay

As I lay weakened
by my heart that fell away
I'm thinking of the day I won't think of you
and picturing how the skies will turn gray
[comments] => 1 [counter] => 156 [topic] => 75 [informant] => FireStarter [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => anguished )

Mismatched heart

Contributed by FireStarter on Monday, 16th March 2015 @ 02:49:12 PM in AEST
Topic: anguished

Strong enough to be a warrior
but weak enough to fall apart
Alone...I walk,
picking up the pieces of my broken heart

They lay scattered in every crevice
that I didn't seek to find
What I didn't think to do in the process
was leave my soul behind

Tried putting the shards back together,
but it fell somewhat slack
Not all the pieces fit,
they were mismatched

I walk alone down the path that still leads to you
the pieces of my heart silently falling away
one by one they go,
until none are here to stay

As I lay weakened
by my heart that fell away
I'm thinking of the day I won't think of you
and picturing how the skies will turn gray

Copyright © FireStarter ... [ 2015-03-16 14:49:12]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Mismatched heart (User Rating: 1 )
by xHeathenx on Wednesday, 18th March 2015 @ 12:20:45 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

It sounds to me, like a "Finding Nemo"-esque story. Looking to make it to your love, but treading over wasteland or desert, always with aching feet, and tired legs and lungs. The dehydrated salt, a white powder coating your skin. Then when you make it to a place in which you can see light, you realize the clouds are grey, and expand the sky. It matches the color, but not the shade of the powder on your skin, and the one in which you walked. The sky just barely lets the sun's light shine in, and it only goes to prove, that the days of yellow-orange and golden love are gone. Grey beams of death are here. The sun itself now a long-fading, almost dark-grey, orb with self-deluded sights of red embers, burning for their last breath, while you stop and think:

"There's nowhere civilized, to which I can go.
Hopefully a new star will find me,
For to find water I might not have the strength.
So I'll scan the horizon, in every which way.
In hopes you show your face out of the heavens,
And then serve to brighten up my day."

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