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nabs Jan 2023
remedies is not only for something we can't pass
remedies is for everything that has broken
or just to re-new something
-
she learns something from her life, everyday
but she never had a chance to write those down

it's not a scam when she said her favorite things to do are reading & writing or writing & reading
reading a poem or her self-diary
writing a poem or a self-diary
she doesn't know if is a gifts
or just a hobby
because everytime she finished wrote all her poems, she re-read it, and she thought all eyes those read her words can write it too (with their own version(s))

in this, not-so, new day(s)
herself will embarks to write all the tales where she's involved in

as long as she living her life
this era is the lowest point in her life
she doesn't know if it actually is, or it's just she made it all low

she can't even say a word to herself
she can't even write what's in her head
she can't even tell anyone when she really needs a person to talk
all are just mixed up in her little head


she doesn't know if it is something like "manifesting" or what
all she knows that she can't figure it out yet
is it something related to science? like human mind?
is it something related to religions? like human relations with The Creator?
but one from many answers for the solutions (based on her own researches) is self-improvement
she is pretty sure that is something wrong inside herself
something to be fixed
something that needs remedy
but her body & mind are not so sure what is that (or what are those)
her body & mind are still figuring out

it's not finished yet
it is still figuring how it needs to be stopped
it is still progressing
'it' is this story, her story, my story
..
chapter 1
em Nov 2022
when i write about other people
frantically scribbling words on a page
to express love
or hate
or something at all

why can't i write the same way for myself
the intense verses and elaborate wording
all used to express a feeling that no combination of words will
ever explain

perhaps if i stare in the mirror long enough
my body will begin to feel like my own,
my face won't distort to a disfigured mess
i'll learn to love my long golden hair
my eyes that look like the earth from outer space
the soft jawline i've always hated
asymmetry embodied

maybe then i'll realize that even scribbles are beautiful too.
lucidwaking May 2022
---TW: themes of self harm---


I'm hungry,
******* hungry.
I'm not really in the mood
For the moldy apples in my fridge.
My brain is hungry though,
******' hungry.

A nagging, a pulling, and a tapping.
The urges crawl to and fro in the back of my skull,
Like drunken, confused spiders.
I roll my eyes back
To take a peep at the spiders,
And I stare at them for a while.
Their clumsy crawling is mesmerizing;
I can't look away, even though I want to.

The stomach growls,
The skin quivers,
And the aroma rises.
The blood running in my veins,
Along with the goosebumps on my skin
Are tantalizing.
Why does it smell better than any actual meal?
My thoughts begin to narrow in on my hunger,
On my skin,
And on my hunger,
And on my skin,
And on the box cutter,
And on my hunger,
And on my skin.
Eventually it's all I can think about,
God ******.

I bite and groan;
I bite and wail.
The guilt consumes me,
But the hunger consumes me
With an even sharper bite.
Not actually about cannibalism - I was using that more as a parallel to discuss the themes portrayed in this piece. It was a tough one to write.
maria Mar 2021
Being in love
with you
(O)
Written on March 23, 2021
© ,Maria
Caleb A Johnson Jan 2021
Your evil made me hungry
and I'm coming back for more

I don't even give a ****
That you don't like the poor

You can go ahead and **** someone
If it will start this war

I've been starving for so long
I just can't take it anymore

Your evil made me hungry
And I'm coming back for more
__

Even if I don't catch a break
At least I'll know what it was for

I don't care to have a Cadillac
As long as you don't get to have yours

I'll turn my back on everyone
If they won't quit what's made me sore

Because your evil made me hungry
And I'm coming back for more
_

I'll do whatever you tell me to
I'll be your favorite *****

I'll show you all my anger
And be a bigoted bore

Just as long as you don't forget me
And relish in my gore

Because your evil made me hungry
And I'm coming back for more
_

I don't need no learning of facts
From someone who knows more

There is no one who can take
From me what I've been looking for

Even if you prove me wrong
I'll believe it even more

Because your evil made me hungry
And I'm coming back for more
__

Now the boys in blue have turned
And thrown me to the floor

And you won't even look at me
You don't need me anymore

But that's ok because I broke it all
Those ******* who we tore

From their exalted places
From their more noble lore

It was your evil made me hungry
And I will always come back for more
Amanda Kay Burke Dec 2020
Intrusive image invading unstable imagination

Bursting bright bringing bouncing bobbling bits of bubbling illusions into brain

A memory of magical messy minutes moseying and mingling
A menagerie of magnificent moments miraculously marked in my mischievous mind

Coming into chaotic corners of cornea calmly
Cruising without cares
Memory
newpoetica Nov 2020
there's so much to do,
so much to see.
so much to view,
but where do i see me?
in all of this chaos,
where is safe and free?
in so much change and loss,
my faith in a happy fate is weary.
haven't written in a while.
Olivia Catherine Aug 2020
A tavern built on misdeeds and insurrection,
House of rascals, whisky and imperfection
A hideaway for rebels and racketeers,
Where drinks are served to outlaws and mutineers,
Where the pianist plays for pirates and privateers,
Where the wicked and the wayward can be served,
And are respected however undeserved.

It’s a rag-tag bunch of outlaws and anarchists,
A cavalcade of rough revolutionists,
So come on in my dear insurrectionist,
Welcome to our lawless little band,
Welcome to the Tavern of the ******.

Come and join our banished battalion,
Join our cause, oh revered rapscallion,
So calling out to nature’s abominations,
We’ve got bourbon, bombshells and indignation,
Come and wait for imminent and sure damnation,
No matter what your deviance may be,
Come and join the drunken reverie.

It’s a monument to lost souls and deviants,
A shrine to every small disobedience,
A riotous, cathartic experience,
Where radicals are safe from reprimand,
Welcome to the Tavern of the ******.

Welcome back, my worshipped renegade,
To the place where freedom’s sweet as lemonade,
Where skanks and outlaws, sing so intoxicated,
The anthem of the unkempt and agitated,
The mantra of the evil and of the hated,
Laughing as they sing their merry tune,
Unified by their impending doom.

It’s a testament to chaos and anarchy,
A haven for the worst of humanity,
A house of lawlessness and profanity,
Welcome to our lawless little band,
Welcome to the Tavern of the ******.
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