my-fickle-muse:

a woman holds inside

the volatility of a universe

stars are born 

under her skin

planets and seasons

revolve within

her blood flows

she sheds her soul

the cycle of death

and regrowth

bodily, she knows

death and its

side-effects

ripple in her veins

a tidal wave of destruction

the backlash of creation

claws at her skin

 ….

a woman is a bull

strong, unwieldy

powerful

and unconstrained

a woman is china

in a glass cabinet

beautiful to behold

too delicate to hold

 …….

do not pity her

when she cracks

and cries

when her eyes

glisten with tears

like a waning moon

she is a planet

she is a planet’s queen

she’s been shedding

falling stars

for one million 

light years

and the light

fills her still.

(Source: fifty-shades-of-apathy, via poetryriot)

kristensnotebook:

They called her the cactus
because she hated hugs
and could spend a lifetime
lost in the desert
without getting lonely.

(via kristensnotebook)

I shattered the bowl.

Lined with fools gold.

I shattered the bowl.

Holding spools

of a mother’s wool.

I shattered the bowl.

With a shout.

And then,

Well,

I couldn’t recount.

Blind Rage had

thrown me for a bout.

I shattered the bowl

To release myself.

The bowl was an iron cage.

And there you trapped me

Until I had a lion’s rage.

A canary, sent down the shaft.

I was aging.

Fast.

I shattered the bowl

Out of fear,

I didn’t know

how to speak

and reach your ears.

I shattered the bowl.

Standing on glistening tears.

My feet bled

As I walked near.

I shattered the bowl

As my father wept

And on hot pavement

I took my first breaths.