The only time it felt right
With the wind leaning against the wall
And the sun spreading itself along the ground
Was when my step were between the splits
The fractures at my feet
– I at five years old, the frown at the chasms
That open up from the unluck earned
Stepping on the cracks
I looked at the x-rays and tried not to cry. The breaks in my arm, in my cheek, in my ribs were nothing compared to the fractures of betrayal in my heart.
Fractures are very important. I do not know what to say about it because i can only think of fracture and in regards to bones, which i have never obtained thankfully. Fractures of a minute also comes to mind but then again what kinda sentence can i make from that.
Not only did we hear them, but we saw them forming right before our eyes. Fractures. We were almost 100 yards out on the ice and slowly turned around and tip-toed back when all of a sudden the ice gave way and we went under. Hey…heaven is way better than earth.
Fracture happen to a lot of people. Most of them are by accident, but they way I got my fracture is one that I don’t like talking about much. My father is a loving guy. Except sometimes when he drink he is not the same man I love. My father is a caring man who ask me how my day was when I come home from school. This man who replaces my father is not the same person. He is someone who I do not recognize whatsoever. I don’t like this new man at all. He comes around more often then I usually want and he usually is angry most of the time.
I believe everybody has issues. Everybody has worries and fears and problems that we might not think is big. But, trust me: it is. Everybody has burns from the past,scars, and everyone is fractured. But I also firmly believe it’s your fractures that make you beautiful
She stood back and watched as yet another fracture scarred her life. Her mother stood, crying and sobbing, on her knees in the dust kicked up by the family’s car as it zipped away, carrying her father out of her life forever.
She stood back and watched as yet another fracture scarred her life. Her mother stood, crying and sobbing, on her knees in the dust kicked up by the family’s car as it zipped away, carrying my father out of my life.
there are no fractures in my heart. i think i’ve left some on others, but never gave them the time to do the same to me. i have a lot of secrets, some darker than others. i think everyone should have some, some they share with only special people, and some they never tell a soul. i hope i steer away from these fractures. far far away.
OW GOD DAMMIT. Whilst crying over some stupid reality show, my brain decided to frazzle; it felt like a myriad of little fractures slowly creeping all over my head. I slammed down onto the pillow, and waited for the pain to subside.
New York. With skyscrapers so high, streets abuzz with traffic, and lights that dazzle like the milky way. New York is the place to shop to you drop, the place where miracles happen, and where the adventure just begins.
Or so I’ve been told. Because nothing could describe what I am seeing right now. Towers are in crumbled ruins, and new buildings are slowly taking their place. It looks as if a war zone has been in the city I am in. As if the recovery is taking far too long.
My eyes study Manhattan from the taxi I’m in. I forget about my companion until a hand lightly touches my shoulder. Flinching from Eric, I lean against the cab door to scrutinize him.
“Do you remember anything?” he asks as we exit the bridge.
At his question, I want to curse my fractured memory, but instead I simply whisper, “Nothing.” Silence falls over us; his silence from disappointment, mine from anger.
The cab is pulling in front of a newly built hotel. When it slows to a stop, I reach to open the door.
“Maybe you’ll recognize them,” Eric says as I stare into two beautiful faces.
At rest within the fractures that remain after the collision brought forth by the sky inculcation of sea and land,each story awaits its turn to receive voice.
sixty seconds wasn’t enough time to allow myself to prepare for the fall which stood in front of me with the sound of glass shattering around my ears and the dull ringing of my own core. bones and people scattered around me as if in the midst of a blitz and everything turned the colour of jade. your hair looked like silk for a second and then i was asleep and unable to wake up again. i am sorry, i whispered hovering over my own body.
The end. That was it. You would never be able to play again. All the championships, the trophies, the clubs, the memories. All thrown away with a hard tackle.
I have a fear of falling and being unable to walk because of the various fractures I may have. At my age brken bones are more common that for folks under 60.
They do have many p[ain pills to relieve the suffering however the length of time it takes toi recuperate can be longer than we may expect.
So be careful when walking to be on guard to sidewalks that are uprooted because of tree roots or pot hole made by passing cars in the street.
I picked up the small hand mirror I had recently received as a gift from my aunt. I held it gingerly up towards the light and turned it over to get a better look at the back of it. Before I knew what was happening, it slipped from my hand, crashing to the floor. I quickly picked it up to examine the damage, fractures in it’s glass face played across its face.
The sunlight makes me worry. Once the darkness comes and I can sit still under the setting sky, I feel more at peace. I never thought it’d be this hard ten months after the fractures between us. It was my fault, it was my park bench, it was my rain that fell from above. How many times can I say this? It was my choice, and yet I’m feeling lonesome. The independent stand alone while the dependent cling to bodies and fake smiles for support. I’m sorry for who we were, but I’m not sorry for who we became. I’m too strong, and he crumbles under the pressure to fit into the square box placed before us all. But in that moment, we met somewhere where we both needed each other and passed through with broken bones and fractured hearts. I’ll be okay one day, I know. But today–today is a rough patch of sunlight under shady skies.
My sister and I both ended up with broken arms the same summer. In fact, the only summer that we ever took a family vacation! I fell off a broken see-saw and actually broke my arm and hers was called a fracture.
there are fractures in the wall, just like my heart. i can repair neither. no money for the first, and no energy for the latter. what can i do to fix these, these, these problems, for lack of a better word? what can i do?
it hurts to break an arm or a bone, i hate pain me, really hate it. I can’t even stub my toe without tears let alone break a bone. I’ve only broken my toe though, and that sucked. Loads. Pain is yuck. I don’t want to break an arm or a leg, because i just know that i’ll be a little baby about it. Like I am with everything. Be it heart break or physical pain, baby is what i am.
I sat in the stadium, now for 3 days. Not a drop of cooled water had touched my lips, not a crumb of food had reached my tongue. My stomach screamed at me. My mother rocked herself back and forth on the bench. My father ripped the yellow star off of his jacket in fury. Unlike my raging father, I was proud of my star.
All of a sudden, a young woman, around twenty years of age, fell from the highest part of the stadium. She lain on the floor, blood escaping through her nostrils and mouth, fractures so terrible that you could see them popping out of the skin. Dead. with her child not far behind her.
Should I still be proud of my star?
Bones can fracture, but also relationships can fracture. A fracture means to be broken apart. I have fractured my wrist in 5th grade. There is a movie called fracture where the evidence is broken up.
They spin off in to the distance and I watch them, my heartbeat coming fast and strong, my breathing ragged. It’s over now. Over. All over.
The pieces, I can still see them. They reflect the light. Spinning as if in slow motion, away from us, the fractured parts of our lives. Falling away. Forever.
Why is my face damp? I can’t remember. I can’t. Why, I whisper, a soft feathered thing that falls away from me, disappears into the depths.
Now, we will no longer be human, but something less…and yet more. This is what we have lived for.
My younger brother very recently got his right wrist fractured in school while playing.This has resulted in him getting loads of attention from the rest of us and he is certainly soaking it all in!!
From my angle led on the floor I could see her leaping over me and then landing in perfect slow motion. I scrunched my eyes closed in anticipation of the impact when both of her feet would land on my outstretched forearm. The thud as she landed on me seemed to shake the ground, I could feel the vibration flow through the ground into me. Then the pain hit, white hot and furious.
My stitches are red and clumsy on the surface of my skin, all tangled thread and criss-crossed needle holes. Knots are caught in puckered folds, and it’s all I can do to hold the surface taught as I stitch myself together. I still need to fill fracture holes with patches, place batting in tears and surge myself along thinned seams.
But my needlework looks weak and childish. Maybe someday, I’ll learn how to sew properly.
The pot had fractures. It was like a dutch oven, made from Burgundian clay. It was passed down to a grandson who wanted to appreciate it. But, it had fractures.
My teeth where gritted in pain. As I sat on the ground writhing in pain I heard footsteps approaching… And then Justin burst through the tress panting for breath! “Are you alright?” ha managed to gasp. “No, I think my bone has some fractures… I can’t move.”
Fractures form in all walks of life, breaking apart friendships and slowly tearing apart what could once be a solid foundation. All it takes is the tiniest fracture to grow into a full-fledged chasm with time.
Every time I think about the past year, I think of all the pieces, the little fractures that have barricaded themselves into my life. How deeply emotional, how much turmoil killed me. The nostalgia, oh god, thinking about the past brings me to a down right pain. For once in my life I just want to be happy again. I just want to fly away like a bird, releasing my energy into the sky, floating above all of the chaos and feel at ease, content.
We can’t all handle everything; I tried for so long to handle much of my life alone, thinking myself above others. It was only when it all came crashing down, the world completely aflame, that I found that my friends and my family were too important to lose. I’ve made my mistakes, and the cracks will always be there, reminding me of who, or what, I almost became.
Fractures are like half assed breaks. Fractures in a relationship can be far more painful than a break, because each chip eats away at both parties, yet neither person wants to break the bone. But the fractures never heal, and the relationship shatters.
One time I fractured my toe. I fractured it right as the new year started. Even though that bad thing happened in the beginning of the year it turned out to be one of my best years ever.
The only time it felt right
With the wind leaning against the wall
And the sun spreading itself along the ground
Was when my step were between the splits
The fractures at my feet
– I at five years old, the frown at the chasms
That open up from the unluck earned
Stepping on the cracks
I looked at the x-rays and tried not to cry. The breaks in my arm, in my cheek, in my ribs were nothing compared to the fractures of betrayal in my heart.
Fractures are very important. I do not know what to say about it because i can only think of fracture and in regards to bones, which i have never obtained thankfully. Fractures of a minute also comes to mind but then again what kinda sentence can i make from that.
Not only did we hear them, but we saw them forming right before our eyes. Fractures. We were almost 100 yards out on the ice and slowly turned around and tip-toed back when all of a sudden the ice gave way and we went under. Hey…heaven is way better than earth.
Fracture happen to a lot of people. Most of them are by accident, but they way I got my fracture is one that I don’t like talking about much. My father is a loving guy. Except sometimes when he drink he is not the same man I love. My father is a caring man who ask me how my day was when I come home from school. This man who replaces my father is not the same person. He is someone who I do not recognize whatsoever. I don’t like this new man at all. He comes around more often then I usually want and he usually is angry most of the time.
I believe everybody has issues. Everybody has worries and fears and problems that we might not think is big. But, trust me: it is. Everybody has burns from the past,scars, and everyone is fractured. But I also firmly believe it’s your fractures that make you beautiful
A scream came from down the hallway. Piercing. The next few moments were a blur. A mix of tears, traffic, and busy hospital waiting rooms.
Minute fractures webbed across the mirror, now hanging crookedly from the vanity. Jessica examined it. Was the force of her spell really that strong?
She grinned and straightened the mirror, and tried something else. Concentrating hard, she heard crackling. The mirror was repairing itself!
This could be fun, she thought.
She stood back and watched as yet another fracture scarred her life. Her mother stood, crying and sobbing, on her knees in the dust kicked up by the family’s car as it zipped away, carrying her father out of her life forever.
She stood back and watched as yet another fracture scarred her life. Her mother stood, crying and sobbing, on her knees in the dust kicked up by the family’s car as it zipped away, carrying my father out of my life.
the born slowly splintered, the fractures painful, the doctor’s futile attempt failed. The fractures were not able to be fixed.
there are no fractures in my heart. i think i’ve left some on others, but never gave them the time to do the same to me. i have a lot of secrets, some darker than others. i think everyone should have some, some they share with only special people, and some they never tell a soul. i hope i steer away from these fractures. far far away.
OW GOD DAMMIT. Whilst crying over some stupid reality show, my brain decided to frazzle; it felt like a myriad of little fractures slowly creeping all over my head. I slammed down onto the pillow, and waited for the pain to subside.
“It seems that you received various simple fractures up and down your left arm. Which leaves me with one question.”
“Yes, doctor?”
“What did you do, have a hammer precisely crush each spot from your elbow to your wrist?”
I blinked. “No…it was just a game of piñata gone bad.”
“I see,” the doctor muttered. “Happy Birthday, by the way.”
“Thanks,” I grinned, waiting for him to wrap me up.
New York. With skyscrapers so high, streets abuzz with traffic, and lights that dazzle like the milky way. New York is the place to shop to you drop, the place where miracles happen, and where the adventure just begins.
Or so I’ve been told. Because nothing could describe what I am seeing right now. Towers are in crumbled ruins, and new buildings are slowly taking their place. It looks as if a war zone has been in the city I am in. As if the recovery is taking far too long.
My eyes study Manhattan from the taxi I’m in. I forget about my companion until a hand lightly touches my shoulder. Flinching from Eric, I lean against the cab door to scrutinize him.
“Do you remember anything?” he asks as we exit the bridge.
At his question, I want to curse my fractured memory, but instead I simply whisper, “Nothing.” Silence falls over us; his silence from disappointment, mine from anger.
The cab is pulling in front of a newly built hotel. When it slows to a stop, I reach to open the door.
“Maybe you’ll recognize them,” Eric says as I stare into two beautiful faces.
“Oh you clumsy idiot!”, Mother shrieked. She really knew how to lay it on thick, like I’d pierced her heart with an arrow or shattered Daddy’s urn.
It was only a glass. A simple wine glass. Crystal. Still half full with our Christmas Bordeaux.
But it was only an accident.
At rest within the fractures that remain after the collision brought forth by the sky inculcation of sea and land,each story awaits its turn to receive voice.
sixty seconds wasn’t enough time to allow myself to prepare for the fall which stood in front of me with the sound of glass shattering around my ears and the dull ringing of my own core. bones and people scattered around me as if in the midst of a blitz and everything turned the colour of jade. your hair looked like silk for a second and then i was asleep and unable to wake up again. i am sorry, i whispered hovering over my own body.
The end. That was it. You would never be able to play again. All the championships, the trophies, the clubs, the memories. All thrown away with a hard tackle.
I have a fear of falling and being unable to walk because of the various fractures I may have. At my age brken bones are more common that for folks under 60.
They do have many p[ain pills to relieve the suffering however the length of time it takes toi recuperate can be longer than we may expect.
So be careful when walking to be on guard to sidewalks that are uprooted because of tree roots or pot hole made by passing cars in the street.
I picked up the small hand mirror I had recently received as a gift from my aunt. I held it gingerly up towards the light and turned it over to get a better look at the back of it. Before I knew what was happening, it slipped from my hand, crashing to the floor. I quickly picked it up to examine the damage, fractures in it’s glass face played across its face.
The sunlight makes me worry. Once the darkness comes and I can sit still under the setting sky, I feel more at peace. I never thought it’d be this hard ten months after the fractures between us. It was my fault, it was my park bench, it was my rain that fell from above. How many times can I say this? It was my choice, and yet I’m feeling lonesome. The independent stand alone while the dependent cling to bodies and fake smiles for support. I’m sorry for who we were, but I’m not sorry for who we became. I’m too strong, and he crumbles under the pressure to fit into the square box placed before us all. But in that moment, we met somewhere where we both needed each other and passed through with broken bones and fractured hearts. I’ll be okay one day, I know. But today–today is a rough patch of sunlight under shady skies.
My sister and I both ended up with broken arms the same summer. In fact, the only summer that we ever took a family vacation! I fell off a broken see-saw and actually broke my arm and hers was called a fracture.
there are fractures in the wall, just like my heart. i can repair neither. no money for the first, and no energy for the latter. what can i do to fix these, these, these problems, for lack of a better word? what can i do?
it hurts to break an arm or a bone, i hate pain me, really hate it. I can’t even stub my toe without tears let alone break a bone. I’ve only broken my toe though, and that sucked. Loads. Pain is yuck. I don’t want to break an arm or a leg, because i just know that i’ll be a little baby about it. Like I am with everything. Be it heart break or physical pain, baby is what i am.
I sat in the stadium, now for 3 days. Not a drop of cooled water had touched my lips, not a crumb of food had reached my tongue. My stomach screamed at me. My mother rocked herself back and forth on the bench. My father ripped the yellow star off of his jacket in fury. Unlike my raging father, I was proud of my star.
All of a sudden, a young woman, around twenty years of age, fell from the highest part of the stadium. She lain on the floor, blood escaping through her nostrils and mouth, fractures so terrible that you could see them popping out of the skin. Dead. with her child not far behind her.
Should I still be proud of my star?
Bones can fracture, but also relationships can fracture. A fracture means to be broken apart. I have fractured my wrist in 5th grade. There is a movie called fracture where the evidence is broken up.
Fractures
They spin off in to the distance and I watch them, my heartbeat coming fast and strong, my breathing ragged. It’s over now. Over. All over.
The pieces, I can still see them. They reflect the light. Spinning as if in slow motion, away from us, the fractured parts of our lives. Falling away. Forever.
Why is my face damp? I can’t remember. I can’t. Why, I whisper, a soft feathered thing that falls away from me, disappears into the depths.
Now, we will no longer be human, but something less…and yet more. This is what we have lived for.
My younger brother very recently got his right wrist fractured in school while playing.This has resulted in him getting loads of attention from the rest of us and he is certainly soaking it all in!!
From my angle led on the floor I could see her leaping over me and then landing in perfect slow motion. I scrunched my eyes closed in anticipation of the impact when both of her feet would land on my outstretched forearm. The thud as she landed on me seemed to shake the ground, I could feel the vibration flow through the ground into me. Then the pain hit, white hot and furious.
My stitches are red and clumsy on the surface of my skin, all tangled thread and criss-crossed needle holes. Knots are caught in puckered folds, and it’s all I can do to hold the surface taught as I stitch myself together. I still need to fill fracture holes with patches, place batting in tears and surge myself along thinned seams.
But my needlework looks weak and childish. Maybe someday, I’ll learn how to sew properly.
Maybe someday, I’ll know better.
The pot had fractures. It was like a dutch oven, made from Burgundian clay. It was passed down to a grandson who wanted to appreciate it. But, it had fractures.
My teeth where gritted in pain. As I sat on the ground writhing in pain I heard footsteps approaching… And then Justin burst through the tress panting for breath! “Are you alright?” ha managed to gasp. “No, I think my bone has some fractures… I can’t move.”
Fractures form in all walks of life, breaking apart friendships and slowly tearing apart what could once be a solid foundation. All it takes is the tiniest fracture to grow into a full-fledged chasm with time.
Every time I think about the past year, I think of all the pieces, the little fractures that have barricaded themselves into my life. How deeply emotional, how much turmoil killed me. The nostalgia, oh god, thinking about the past brings me to a down right pain. For once in my life I just want to be happy again. I just want to fly away like a bird, releasing my energy into the sky, floating above all of the chaos and feel at ease, content.
The cracks, in time, begin to show.
We can’t all handle everything; I tried for so long to handle much of my life alone, thinking myself above others. It was only when it all came crashing down, the world completely aflame, that I found that my friends and my family were too important to lose. I’ve made my mistakes, and the cracks will always be there, reminding me of who, or what, I almost became.
The cracks show.
Fractures are like half assed breaks. Fractures in a relationship can be far more painful than a break, because each chip eats away at both parties, yet neither person wants to break the bone. But the fractures never heal, and the relationship shatters.
One time I fractured my toe. I fractured it right as the new year started. Even though that bad thing happened in the beginning of the year it turned out to be one of my best years ever.
The fractures to his psyche were mending. No plaster cast was necessary.