A shattered clock face concealing

The time you need to know.

It is broken, though

you continue

To hear the constant

Tick

Tock

And it eats away at you mind

Until the fact that the time is there

But you just can’t see it

Drives you crazy,

So you fix the watch face

And see that time continues

To pass. Nothing

Special happened when

It broke, or when it

Was fixed,

It was just the glorious ignorance

that made you want to

Know so bad what was

Happening behind

That shattered glass screen

That was broken when

It fell from your wrist just

as you were trying to

Secure it.

Life is funny that way,

When we secure things,

They end up shattered,

When we fix them,

We wish we could go back

To when they were

Broken and we were

Oblivious to the

Normalcy going on

Beneath the surface.

-savvy.b

#poetry

when i was

5 years old,

i went on

many quests.

i had to

traverse a

rugged land

to find and

save

whoever was

in dire need

this time.

it started by

swinging along the

tops of trees,

competing with

the monkeys.

i would then

walk on

my tiptoes

across a vine

stretching between the

heads of

the tallest trees.

i slid down

rough trunks,

100 feet until

my legs

ached and

my feet finally

kissed the ground.

i saved

dozens of lives

that way.

i was injured

after i

plummeted off a vine,

trying to swing

farther than

my arms could reach.

i didn't save

anyone for a while,

but when i came back,

prepared to rescue

a few more

civilians.

my jungle was

destroyed.

so i sat with

my legs crossed

and ran my fingers

along the

stems of flowers

as they

hauled away

the last piece of

my jungle:

the monkey bars.

-savvy.b

#poetry

Supportive arms

protecting you from

the dangers that

threaten to tear you

apart,

and wiping away

the traumas

that have slipped down your face.

Laughter surrounding you,

coming out of you,

and distracting you from

all the things

that makes us

never want to

smile.

Sacrifices,

breaking the rules a

little bit

because they know

that being with you

in this moment

is more important

than a bedtime

ever will be.

-savvy.b

#poetry

Why must it happen to a celebrity,

For the problems to be heard?

You can protest all you want,

But no one hears a word.

Unless your name is known,

You haven’t any thoughts.

Kim and Kanye are over,

Who cares that kids are getting shot?

The Jenner’s faces aren’t real,

That’s what makes the news.

Forget about the children,

Who live life without shoes.

Show your children good role models,

Like the actors on TV.

Cause their outside is gorgeous,

It doesn’t matter if they are mean.

We only talk about what’s important,

Like relationships and music.

Don’t bring up suicide,

That topic makes me sick.

Let’s obsess over snapchat,

And who is texting who.

Racism isn’t important,

That doesn’t get the views.

Why bring up old problems?

Women are treated fine.

Catcalling is a compliment,

We didn’t cross a line.

So many problems,

With answers easily in reach.

But don’t try to solve them,

That isn’t what we teach.

-savvy.b

#poetry

How my heart mourns

for those without a home.

Those with no place to go

on a rainy autumn night.

What do they do when

it begins to snow?

For they have no place

in which they can make

a scalding cup of cocoa

with marshmallows giving

into the pressure

of becoming one with the

dark cream.

They must settle for

the lullaby of a

roaring stomach,

angry it hasn’t been

fed in two weeks.

Where do they go

when in need of a

fuzzy blanket

and somewhere to

rest their head?

Their pillow

is the cold cement,

and their blanket

is the bone chilling

air.

How my heart envies

those who never wander.

Those who never question if

their home will remain in place

after a long day of work.

What do they do every night?

For they never have to worry

about growing cold from

the torturous feeling

the emptiness of having

no place to live provides.

They can be alleviated

by having warm water

run over their back

and wash away

their fears.

How do they

ever manage

to tear themselves

away from the

comfort having a stable

home provides?

How my heart relates

to those who are confused,

for I too once did not

understand.

For a home is never

a house in which you live,

it is the person that you share

your life with.

And how my heart laments

For those who believe having

a house makes them superior,

for they are the most

misfortuned.

-savvy.b

#poetry