3 hours ago      3 seconds ago

I was barren
A deserted landscape
Full of papercuts from my house of cards
And a tree with no more leaves
I would watch the earth crack
And pick at the places where the ground split
Until I was isolated
I couldn't move
All I could do was think
A task best done when morale is not so low
I was addicted to feeling pain
Pain that I could measure and prescribe myself
I self medicated with insults and inhalants
Mockery and mutalation
Addicted to my meds is what I became
So addicted to sadness
I never wanted it to leave

But here I am
Clean and cultivating
The fruit that
My new land has produced
And now I feel good
Mind and heart content
I can finally love you

Long title, haven't done one of those in a while.
This is just another poem about some stuffs.

Have a great day everyone :)
#sad   #addiction   #depression   #life   #pain   #happy   #past   #new   #now   #selfharm  
Incarnadine Lips
Incarnadine Lips
19 hours ago      1 hour ago

hips, spherical
inflamed, ire!

come, look at
the glory, her-
aspic bosom
on fire

1 day ago      1 hour ago

i saw a beautiful star in the night sky.

while staring at it from a far distance
under the moonlight,
i was mesmerised by its luster,
inspired by the light it gave.

as i got closer and closer,
i fell in love with the pulchritude
of its flaming infernos.

as the distance between us slowly started diminishing,
i stood there still smiling,
"someday, you'll be the death of me"

perhaps i was too blinded by its bright blaze to realize this sooner
Saul Makabim
Saul Makabim
7 hours ago      1 hour ago

how you wandered here
no one finds anyone
like me
without knowing
who I am
And yet
They dig me up
crack the coffin open
poke me with sticks
and take pictures
for the scrapbook
of restless dead.

Megan H
Megan H
3 hours ago      1 hour ago

You ruin me
You suffocate me
You alienate me
You taunt me
You tempt me
You devastate me
You cheat me
You anger me
You educate me
You challenge me
You change me

You have made me

#sad   #life   #change   #me  

Come prisoned moon in steep cloud-fastnesses,—
Throned queen and thralled; some dying sun whose pyre
Blazed with momentous memorable fire;—
Who hath not yearned and fed his heart with these?
Who, sleepless, hath not anguished to appease
Tragical shadow’s realm of sound and sight
Conjectured in the lamentable night?…
Lo! the soul’s sphere of infinite images!

What sense shall count them? Whether it forecast
The rose-winged hours that flutter in the van
Of Love’s unquestioning unreveale’d span,—
Visions of golden futures: or that last
Wild pageant of the accumulated past
That clangs and flashes for a drowning man.

Steven Langhorst
Steven Langhorst
1 day ago      1 hour ago

For a mere glimpse drives one mad.
A lust to climb fog shrouded peaks.
To make the heightened pass.
The place untouched by souls of feet . Craggy cracks finite mask.
Cleavage of deeper mysteries offered. Amongst the folds of molten old.
I lichen the search to the raw beginnings.
Life's mystery centerfold.

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