Damaged Goods

You aren’t what you were
before i met you,
your innocence will never, be reclaimed,
Stomping my heels on your porch,
Left your broken dreams in a heap–
by the dustbin,
Strangers,
are friends you haven’t met yet,
or bad ideas you never
should let fly out
of their cocoons
to pollute the
Peririmeter of your sanity,
With their debris,
After all it is your life,
Your body,
Though you don’t have any idea
Where your soul lives or
Which nerves are
Responsible for the pain
that knifed through you
when you discovered it was all a game;
Or which veins drain blood from your face
When you find your hopes murdered
On a Tuesday morning
And stuffed into your email,
Or why you can’t drive away the rage
That dances in your belly,
Birthing rivers in your eyes.



17 thoughts on “Damaged Goods” by Sunshine (@nicolebassey)

  1. Beautiful. I like the way you play around with words, and the well-timed breaks. Well done.

    1. I am just glad you read it. Thank you. @newreign

  2. Jo (@josephoguche)

    Strangers are friends we haven’t met yet … nice!

    1. Indeed @Josephoguche , thanks for reading.

  3. Jo (@josephoguche)

    welcome

  4. You aren’t what you were
    before i met you,
    your innocence will never, be reclaimed,
    Stomping my heels on your porch,
    Left your broken dreams in a heap–
    by the dustbin,

    these lines gives the impression that the narrator is the guy that waltzed into her life and messed it up.

    Strangers,
    are friends you haven’t met yet,
    or bad ideas you never
    should let fly out
    of their cocoons
    to pollute the
    Peririmeter of your sanity,
    With their debris,
    After all it is your life,

    now i am confused how this fits into the picture…… was he telling her that she should have been careful who she allows into her heart? that she was a fool for not being scrupulous enough in her dealings with him

    Your body,
    Though you don’t have any idea
    Where your soul lives or
    Which nerves are
    Responsible for the pain
    that knifed through you
    when you discovered it was all a game;
    Or which veins drain blood from your face
    When you find your hopes murdered
    On a Tuesday morning
    And stuffed into your email,
    Or why you can’t drive away the rage
    That dances in your belly,
    Birthing rivers in your eyes.

    is it the same guy still speaking? he must be gloating… may be he set her up in the first place.

    1. Sunshine (@nicolebassey)

      Wow! Almost a review. I am so honoured, so chuffed! Thank you @Topazo , you got the ides wella. But it could also be a babe…. And yes, she isn’t sweet and sugary.

  5. Poignant and reeking of creative wisdom!

    I even love your title…’Damaged Goods’…I’m jealous I didn’t think of that title first cause I would have had an excellent story to go along with it.

    I love this poem…I even tweeted one of your lines –> ‘Strangers,
    are friends you haven’t met yet’

    1. I’ve been summoned, and here I am! Were you rubbing a lamp when you typed my @mention-name? ;-)

      Nice poem. I’m usually not clever enough for poetry – most times I don’t know what the spoon they’re talking about, but this I get.

      It’s quite a feminist poem, isn’t it? Everyone always assumes it’s only men that do the stomping and the taking of innocence. Which is total nonsense because all the chronic players I know (as in the ones that go above and beyond) are the products of a broken heart. Perpetrated by a female.

      Good reminder of the facts. Plus a fresh perspective. A+.

      1. Sunshine (@nicolebassey)

        Thank @obinwanne I am glad you came. No, it isn’t feminist, it is just a warning don’t leave your heart out for the dogs.

  6. Nice poem, great message
    fluid flow
    plot well developed

    loved this…. Though you don’t have any idea
    Where your soul lives

  7. There is something very creative about the angle you took in the craft of this poem. It just might be that it is me who is coming to the poem from a different angle. I see the destroyer as a man, and the damaged goods as a woman. And like Topazo hinted, I see the painting of gloating. That in itself is something worth writing about.

    Well done, Sunshine.

  8. Warning noted. This was a beautiful read.

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