My Attempt At Emo Poetry

This poem has been completely revised about a billion times, but here is the first draft. It's dedicated, in part, to Jess G.



Christmas Ornament


The girl looked up into the sky.
Today was going to be a new day.

She would find a way to sweep up the shattered pieces of her heart,
Which, thankfully, were on the inside, so she wore her smile.

No one could know who she was:
The girl who had pulled the razor blade
Across her forearm until bright beads of red blood splattered
Her perfect pearly white skin,
The girl with the severely concave stomach
Who forced herself to not let food be a comfort
Until the only sound she knew were growls of hunger,
The girl with the tear-stained cheeks
From staying up all night
Until her tears eventually sang her to sleep.

No, she was supposed to be perfect.
She was going to pick up the shattered heart by herself,
Let the glass from it tear up her hand,
Instead of the hand of someone else.
She was planning on doing it all alone,
Life – that is.

She used to be happy,
Used to let the only person who was okay with her imperfection
Hold her in his arms,
While she cried the tears that proved she was flawed.
He compared her to a Christmas ornament,
His Christmas Ornament,
Everyone saw them as beautiful,
But no one ever thought about the dangerous process
That went into creating that beautiful blown glass decoration,
The glass so boiling hot and threatening to burst at any moment.
People just assumed it was perfect.



He left and her world tore apart,
Like a piece of paper being cut with sharp scissors.
The Christmas ornament was shattered.
It fell off the tree and was swept into the trash,
Only to be forgotten by its owner,
Until they stepped on the one piece that was left behind,
Complaining about their own pain,
But not caring that they might have broken the ornament even more.

The girl looked up into the sky.
Today was going to be a new day.