Blanks and broken hearts

Glass Hearts

A girl
She stands still
Surrounded by motion
Whirlwind streaks of people
Caught up in their own little worries
She catches snatches of conversations
Her eyes rest upon the flickering, poorly disguised emotions

Joy
Rage
Fear
And more often
Than people realise
Sadness

Glass hearts
Not always pure
And free of colours

Sometimes
It's only a hint
Tugging on the edges
Of a well formed façade
Other times
Well
Other times
It is all-consuming
A vortex of worries
Of fears
Of the injustices of life
Spun together
Wound so tight
It becomes impossible to separate them

Glass hearts
Looped with thread
Never to be cut

And the people walk on
With these weights on their backs
Laid clear for the rest of the world to see
A constant caricature of sadness
A spectrum
Even
Ranging across
Oh-so many levels

Glass hearts
All so similar
Yet always different

After a long time
The streaks of people blur together
It becomes even harder to distinguish
Who feels what
And why

Glass hearts
Murky in their depths

So much so
That the girl
Is compelled to turn away
Away from the whirling emotions
And the people
Always rushing

Glass hearts
Whirled into a frenzy
Fuelled by speed

But instead
She stays
And watches
The fragile façades as they split
The hearts spilling over
And the crystal clear emotions

Glass hearts
Transparent as they are fragile

They act
Like a stone
Dropped in water
Ripples spread
As do rumours

Glass hearts
Broken and defeated

People jeer
Never quite aware
How theirs too
Could so easily succumb
To the horrors
And the cruelty
Of the world
Of the people in it

Glass hearts
Surrounded and smashed

So
The girl
She turns away
Unable to watch

But even as she turns
A person slows beside her
So they too see the streaks of people
That they were once a part of

The girl
Confused
No one has stopped before
She turns back
Only to see
The sadness
The hearts injured
By all those
Who surround them
Turn
To barely contained rage
Then
Something snaps
The rage is no longer
Contained
It bursts free of its bindings
And turns
With a vengeance
On those
Who
Created it

Glass hearts
Broken and serrated
Hurting those who hurt them

Something changes
Once again
More people slow
To calm the sadness
And the rage
Until it notices
One person
In particular
Who isn't just
Sympathising
Who has
Been through
The same shit
As them
But has
Somehow
Recovered

Glass hearts
Broken edges
Worn down by time

The rage
Is once again
Contained
And now
The sadness
Is replaced
By joy
Its friendlier
Accomplice
And although
The sadness
Sometimes
Returns
It doesn't
Become that
Whirling
Dizzy
Vortex
Of hurt
It is no longer
All-consuming

Now
It is
Just
Traces
Now and then
Triggered
By certain
People
Or situations
But it never overstays
It's welcome

Glass hearts
Pure and polished
Whole again

Except
In some people
It does
Stay
A bit too
Long
And if
They have
No friendly arms
No comforting shoulders
They plunge
Succumbing
To l'appel du vide
To the Imp of the Perverse
And they crash
At first
Maybe
No one
Really
Notices
But then
They do
And the horror
Comes as a tsunami
A wailing crescendo
Of pain
Of tears

Glass hearts
Torn apart
Shatter
And these
Newly created
Shards of glass
Like a stone in water
Spread out
And they
In turn
Smash
More
And more
Glass hearts

Little poem type thing inspired, yet again, by emotions. And society. And a video. I'll link it.
Peace - Cranberry