Fragility

This house is made of eggshells

As far as I can see, shards, everywhere, littering the ground, waiting to stun and snap and break into even more tiny bits

just waiting... waiting to dig and find their mark.

 

This house is made of eggshells

And I have never felt at peace when all are first home, when all arrive, when tensions boil over from the stress of the day, and the fact dinner isn't made and we've let in the heat and let out the shade and I'm trying to hide, but

 

This house is made of eggshells

It's walls are thin as porcelain and stained with blood red pain and anger and fighting and screaming and

GOD, COULD YOU PLEASE BE QUIET JUST SO I CAN THINK

 

I'm sorry, let me backtrack, swallow my opinions and crush my beliefs back into this tiny itty-bitty biting metal cage of a heart that is bursting at the sems with all the secrets it holds just to keep the peace beacause

 

This house is made of eggshells

And I must tread carefully for breaking down and shooting pain and crushing doubt and I'm sorry that I disagree with you but you treat me like I'm not human then tell me to be celestial and then tell me to get over my ego and just be a normal girl and I want to shout at you

 

MAKE UP YOUR MIND ABOUT WHO I AM TO YOU.

 

This house is made of eggshells

And it cannot handle my smashing and crashing and crying and screaming and DIFFERENT. It cannot handle me in all of my red-haired blue lipped crystal bearing divinity. It cannot handle my dreams and my fears and my want to be something more than me- something more than human.

 

 

This house is made of eggshells. And it's breaking apart.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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