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Best Poems Written by Rebecca Travis

Below are the all-time best Rebecca Travis poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Rebecca Travis Poem

Don't get me wrong. I don't think I'm beautiful. But I do think I'm beautifully broken. Before Fet, I hated being called broken. It was an insult. It meant I needed "fixing". Or worse, I was beyond fixing.. and insisted I wasnt.

Granted, I loved the brokenness in other people. The flaws. The wounds. The scars. The jagged edges. The missing pieces. The fractures. Each of these giving their inner light places to shine out of, to reflect and refract, to diffuse and sparkle, to illuminate so beautifully.

But I never really thought about it that way. It was just how I am. I am drawn to the walking wounded. The ones who are bleeding, gasping, hurting, crying. The ones who are healing, scarred, cracked, pitted. The ones who are lost, feel alone, are hiding, are afraid.

I am drawn to the ones like me. The beautifully broken. I never saw myself as that. Couldn't apply the word beautiful to myself whatsoever. But now I know. I am broken and beautifully so. As are so many others.

Emotionally, physically, mentally we've gone through Hell. We have the wounds and scars to show for it. But we survive. We go on. We shine our lights through all our brokenness. Trying to help others see the way. Trying to ease pain and fear. Trying to let others know they are not alone. That they are beautifully broken too.

Broken is no longer an insult. It is a compliment of the highest order. Without my breaks, my light would be useless. It would be self-contained and would do no good in this world. Because of my breaks, I am a lantern. My light shines through and I have purpose. I am...beautifully broken. And proud to be

Details | Rebecca Travis Poem

She Doesnt Think Someone Loves Her

Because people have made her promises in the past and they’ve broken them. Because no matter how hard she works or how good of a person she is, she doesn’t believe she is worthy of love. Because she’s had too many people leave her – both intentionally and unintentionally – and she doesn’t want to give them the chance to leave too. There are a million reasons she might not be able to believe that someone could her. And there will be a million more in the future.
She’s been through so much. She’s had moments where she didn’t know how she was going to keep going. Moments where she didn’t think she could get out of bed, and worse moments where she did get out of bed and she felt like an empty shell while she was walking around. At some points, she was so lost and so torn up that she wasn’t even sure if she was real
Sometimes she can’t believe that someone could love her, but other times she wants to believe that someone could love  her, but that’s hard, because that would just be too good, and good is not what she’s used to. She doesn’t want to love someone and then lose them. She’s scared, because having someone and then not suddenly not having them is a lot scarier than being alone.
She might be extremely secure with herself, or she might think she is nothing. She might be somewhere right down the middle. Regardless, she can’t believe she will find love with someone l, because she hasn’t seen it yet. She’s seen some beautiful love, but she has a hard time remembering that kind of love when she’s watching the sadder stories unfold. She’s seen her friends get hurt, and she’s seen her friends hurt other people. She knows that breaking someone’s heart doesn’t always mean you’re a jerk or a heartless monster. She knows good people hurt other good people. Sometimes one person just doesn’t love another in the same way. Sometimes they did love that person and then they fall out of it. Either way, they have to be honest with themselves, and they have to be fair to the other person. In the end, someone always gets crushed.
Maybe she’s afraid to love  because she’s been the person that’s broken someone else’s heart. Being hurt doesn’t always have to mean you were on the receiving end. You can hurt yourself by hurting someone else, to the point where you can’t even breathe and you hate waking up in your own body, knowing what you did and how you made someone else feel. Maybe she loved someone but knew they weren’t the right person for her, so she had to leave them. And now she’s worried that you’re going to do the same thing to her. That, even though some loves her and they kindhearted and they have the purest intentions, they still might have to walk away. She knows there are so many reasons why it might not work, so instead of paying attention to the one reason why it will, she focuses on the ways it won’t. It’s called self-preservation, and it’s all she knows.
She listens to love songs and she lets them pass through her and she wants them to be her life. But she can’t. She wants to be that sickeningly happy. To be so in love that you laugh at things that aren’t that funny and so in love that you aren’t fazed by rude people or stressful situations. But she won’t let herself give into the fantasy of leaning her head against a train window and listening to that song and wearing a dizzying smile as she thinks about someone. She’d rather stay on the cautious side. This side of things is not thrilling or exhilarating. She doesn’t get goosebumps, and she doesn’t feel as if you need to go outside and run a mile in order to get rid of the boundless energy you feel just from thinking about someone else. This side isn’t living. But it’s safe and secure and she has a grip on her head and her heart. She doesn’t feel shaky or unstable. She’s in control.
Maybe, technically, she does believe that someone could her. Somewhere inside of her, once you get past all of the defense mechanisms, she is soft and she feels things and she believes that someone could love her. But this is also the part of her that is the most vulnerable. She knows that if she’s going to let herself feel what they are telling her and if she’s going to believe that someone loves her, she’s going to have to expose her soft side, her vulnerable side – the side she works the hardest to keep safe.
She wants to trust someone. She wants to believe that they will be different. She wants to give them  the chance to break her into a million pieces. But they’ve  to meet her halfway. They have  got to let her know that they are scared too. They have got to remind her that they are  just as much at risk, because she can break them into a million pieces too. If she can’t believe that they  love her, tell her anyway. Every day. Show her. Make her understand that theyre  not going anywhere. Because at the end of the day, you want her to be staring out that train window, thinking only of them.

Details | Rebecca Travis Poem

Ode To Marshmellow Peeps

Marsh mellow peeps
a wonderful treat.
Yellow pink or  blue 
 all of them stick like glue 
on easter , christmas or even halloween  
I like peeps and  pass on  jelly beans .
Some have said they can cure the common cold  
others say it reminds them of yellow slime mold  
what can I say ?
it doesnt matter to me either way 
but personally  my favorite type is
the ones you put in the microwave oven  
and watch as they  bubble, pop and  fizz

Details | Rebecca Travis Poem

Skeletons

Free 
or not free
long haunting skeletons 
trying to escape imprisonment 
for freedom

Details | Rebecca Travis Poem

My Inner Monster

You are my inner monster,
always there 
you are a part of me 
I cannot change that.
You re the voice inside my head
that only I can hear,
and spend countless hours 
trying to keep quiet.
I can hear your words
they echo in my mind 
taking me back to earlier times 
I try to forget 
move past 
but you are always there 
taunting me
belittling me 
cursing me 
The years have gone by 
the distance grows wider
and even now I can hear you .
to deny you is to,
is to deny me 
Why some ask …
 because you are my father 
my inner monster.

Details | Rebecca Travis Poem

This Is My Heart

This is my heart.
Here, you can hold it while I explain. Just…be gentle, OK?
That piece right there,
the indention with the dark scar,
I fell in love once.
That piece is gone forever;
it reminds me of that time in my life.
Although the pain is gone,
I still feel how it is forever changed.
I run my finger over that part occasionally,
remembering how happy I was to find someone to give my heart to,
and the gut wrenching pain I endured taking it back.

Those scars,
I’ve loaned it to a couple of people and it didn’t come back to me in the same condition.
Even though they knew it wasn’t theirs,
they didn’t necessarily respect that it was mine.
Foolish perhaps to let others handle it so carelessly,
but it feels like it beats stronger when in the hands of someone else.
It’s such a paradox,
how it’s stronger when given away,
but always comes back feeling so torn and weak.

That bruise,
I trusted someone recently who lied to me.
It’s a deep bruise and still fresh,
it aches some and it really hurts when touched,
but it will heal with no permanent damage.
I know because I have had bruises like that before.
I still trust people though and believe humanity,
as a whole, is full of good people who are trustworthy.

Those scratches are minor,
almost like paper cuts on your finger.
Those are the words from talks with friends and family.
They are mostly accidental.
They burn and irritate for a day or two but soon it is as if they never existed.

I was trusted with someone's heart once,
it bears a scar similar to the one on mine.
I knew I couldn’t keep it forever,
but by the time I admitted that to myself it had already become a part of me.
As I tore it away from me to return it to the one I loved there was no way to do so without damage.
The pain from that hurts more than any of the pain inflicted on my own heart.

It weird,
looking at it cradled in your hands,
you’ve scratched it sometimes,
but I’m not scared.
My greatest fear isn’t the potential for you hurting my heart.
My greatest fear is breaking yours.

Details | Rebecca Travis Poem

One More Drink

I cannot stop missing  you 
I sit here night after night 
with the wine glass in hand 
the bottle half gone 
every day it takes a little more 
just to ease the nauseating pain 
your gone that is my reality 
there is nothing that I can say 
nothing that I can do 
your simply gone 
I hear the rumors every now and again 
and silently hope 
they are just that 
rumors
I dont think that I can handle 
any more blunt reality 
time has passed, 
they say time will heal all wounds 
yet I still hurt 
I hurt as much today 
as I did then 
I try to find ways 
just to cope with the pain 
I lose myself 
I get lost in the wine 
drunk with pain and sorrow 
friends have told me to let you go 
easier said then done 
I try to put on a great show 
cant let them see how damaged I really am 
so I smile and go through the motions 
of day to day life 
but when it is me 
and only me
 I let the tears fall like rain
and wait for the wine to take away the pain

Best Poems Written by Rebecca Travis

Fake Smiles and Lies

My Shoes

I Could ...

Beautifully Broken

She Doesnt Think Someone Loves Her

Ode To Marshmellow Peeps

Skeletons

My Inner Monster

This Is My Heart

One More Drink