The World and You

The World and You

A Poem by Sapphire Balasquez

don't leave me.... but leave me T__T


If you touch it, it might burn you

How can this be repaired?
A burnt hand…
It's disintegrating
In thin air.
Don't touch it, it might burn you
And I love you far too much
To see you hurt.
If I touch it, it might burn me.
And if I don't recoil it could become
A smiling, face- a warm face,
But I'm a broken doll…
No good for anything,
But everyone's trying to fix me-
Well, even if my face has to drip,
You have light coming for you
And I'm just the old, broken doll,
Leave me behind if you must. 
But maybe one day,
You'll remember me
And I'll be just like new again
For now,
Just be happy
And remember not to touch it
Because I did it for you
And you don't deserve to be tethered down.

© 2008 Sapphire Balasquez

Author's Note

Sapphire Balasquez
how can i make it better?

My Review

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Awww!!! It's so beautiful and emotional!

I get the feeling that this poem is dripping with fresh blood and needs to be allowed to scab over before you start revising it. (That's my new favorite gruesome metaphor so you must deel with it's brutality XD)

I love the images. This one seems to rely heavily upon touch as it's strongest sense. You might want to even amplify that more and make this poem almost painful to read.
Your second line was probably the weakest in the poem I'm afraid. You could almost do without it.
My favorite part was the images of flames and I wonder if you could tie that into the doll also? That could be really amazing if it worked.

Beautiful poem. Q__Q I'm sorry I didn't read it sooner.

Posted 15 Years Ago

This is sad. Nicely written too. I don't really know how you can make this better, i think it's good as is. But then again *sigh* who am i? lol. I really enjoyed this though.


Posted 15 Years Ago

Nicely written. Very sad though. I hope things become better for you..

Posted 15 Years Ago

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3 Reviews
Added on August 6, 2008


Sapphire Balasquez
Sapphire Balasquez

Niwot, CO

In my room of orange, I obsess over books, and write into the unearthly hours of the night, starting at my Shmoo for condolences. On any normal night, my music pushes my thoughts along until sleep ta.. more..