Those Who Broke Me
To those who broke me and the pen that filled the gaps
I would like to thank you
for the months of
and a twinkle of tranquility.
It was the euphoria you showed me,
reaching into low hanging clouds
of a barely buoyant mental state.
An elevator of ecstasy
soaring up a skyscraper,
splattering on my keyboard,
my phone, in a mess of words
I never dare let slip from my tongue.
Yet the plummet
back to earth’s core,
where molten magma warmed my toes,
silence spilled from every crevice
that I found I missed the buzz of thoughts
bubbling under my skull.
I didn’t like the story I was living
so, I wrote myself anew.
The cup holder size hole of koi fish
swimming to the surface
hungry for thoughts of you,
could only be pleased
with ink stains of memories.
In the dystopian
world on fire,
type ruin you left me stranded in,
I created more for myself with our past
than you ever gave me in our present.
Anna Kushner is from Kalamazoo, Michigan. She is currently a senior at Michigan State University studying international relations and public relations. She writes to express the things in life that often go unsaid.