Those Who Broke Me

Anna Kushner

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 notebook,  

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, 

Zombie apocalypse, 

Nuclear wasteland  

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.