Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
i am only
just pretend
like an
imaginary friend
there is a me
somewhere
that exists
but i don’t think
anyone has
ever been
introduced to her

i play games
with myself,
with strangers,
friends,
lovers,
with family,
coworkers,
and others

i don’t take
anything seriously
and it eats away
at my stability
it tramples me
with insecurity
and keeps stimulating
my curiosity

i’m like a cat
waiting for something
bigger
and better
to **** me
but looking at my watch
time never stops
and none of these
******* got
bigger *****
they can’t get this crazy
**** down
long enough
to set their clocks
they just keep
******* and wishin
they could touch the scars
i have gotten
from all the times
i’ve reached up
for the stars

yeah, i’m really ****** sick
and i don’t know what to do with it
i could let it break me
or let it take me
where i really
want to go
up high
down low
back and forth
to and fro
i’m gonna puke
i think i’m dead
where’d i go?
which way is home?
where’s my mind?
what’d i do?
oh ****
oh no
the clouds float with a sense of melancholy this day,
leaving a lingering sensation of unease echoing below
the well of my insomnia...

the eclipse has cast a dulling shade upon my adulthood.
Where I once felt the ember of passion,
there now lays bare a garden of wilting lavender...
blood poetry
if I told you I died 5 times today,
would you believe me?

now,
in the horizon there,
my passion hangs on
a weak branch
stained of copper.

oh,
so timeless is the upset of ruin...
feeding the crows who leave
their feathers upon me,
making me black...
blood poetry
spring has taken
the shape of a wounded coyote...

forcing a layered film
of something very dangerous
to hide in the bulb of each joss flower…

a brutal coercion made pure
by the ghost of the ending winter...

each day has forced warmth
upon me as if it were a ritual,

the annual harvest of my sanity.
blood poetry
Arlo Disarray Mar 23
maybe
my wings
are a bit
too long
and i’ve
flown
too close
to the sun

perhaps
it is i
who is
lost
in
the sky
getting
carried away
having fun

my smile
has shown
more
than it has
in a while
and i’m
looking forward
to future
grins
too

my head’s
in a spin
as
my heart’s
caving in
and i’m
just not
quite sure
what to do

i know
what
i want
and i
i know
what
i don’t
but i’m
not sure
how to
navigate
between

i’ve been lost
for so long
that i
don’t know
what’s wrong
and i’m
stuck
feeling
like
the
grass
is
never green

the moon
hangs
on
a
wire
as
it
dangles
to
inspire
and i’m
caught
beneath
recycled rays
of sun

the lights
will guide
the way
the
stars
will
find a day
for us to
be
everything
we’d
hoped
we
could
become
el Mar 20
Maybe being insane
Is the curse
That was gifted
To every writer
Renae Mar 7
Crazy? What's crazy?
Maybe I'm a bit stubborn
from feeling so used
I might go out by myself
and never ask another
I suppose that might sound
crazy, I mean,
I speak my mind,
I expose the truth...
I guess that might
sound a little bit crazy
Especially when
the masses can't even see
The crystal clear vision
of a rearview mirror
staring at them
through the windshield.
Which way are we going?
Nat Lipstadt Dec 2023
Crazy Guy Sends His Poems to a Dead Guy

~for Joel Frye,and yes it’s true~


ah another trivial pursuit of trivial nuggets
bout yours untruly, that is a truly truly,
poets that
I’ve known here, but who have moved on,
it’s my obligation to keep them posted on the
au courant,

so slip them a poem or two,
when you ain’t looking to

make one wonder even more,
what makes a man a nutty Natty.?

well if you don’t know the answer to that after
two t h o u s a n d plus poems, you are not getting me

but Joel Frye,
mutual enjoyed our scribblings,
yeah, he got me,
so via social media,
keep him posted of my latest écrits,
fancy french for scribbles,

of course he gets them
before me,
in so far I assume
my thots are known to rise
or more likely drop,
even before
they traverse that narrow passage between my ears…
but really, just in case,
in the peace and quiet
of the hubbub above, with all them comings and goings,
he, God forbid, (ha!), he may overlook my inane insanities,
and the weirdness
of my compositions,
real, ethereal and in between~al,

that’s a great whew~relief knowing,
at least
some one!
is reading my stuff…

natty
Joel Frye,
Poet on HP

Deceased 2023
Jeremy Betts Nov 2023
I wonder if an eye for an eye means you'll never worry about a sty
You try and you try to comply but still see yourself go from zero to bad guy
{Never clarify a why}
You know as well as I, if possible at all they will always present the lie
And who needs to justify why it is what it is when what it is something we'll never get to try

Please stand by...

No one will be with you shortly, this journey is set up to be very lonely
It's just you and you buddy, Superman's strictly literary and there's no name at all on the bologna
{Look closely}
Monopoly's a better show of character then any therapy, decide for yourself if that's comedy or tragedy
Money is invested in more cautiously than time and family

Is there any calm to this calamity?

There's no depth to our shallowness, told it helps move along the progress
The process? Well, that's a little harder to digest, we digress with every test
{Failures are countless}
Direct protest to this nonsense that's pressed into every crevice
Some kind of life sentence, a guilty plea agreed upon with no victim or eye witness

What even is this?

Escape one bad dream only to find yourself awake in a worst nightmare
Nothing in here fights fair, I'm not aware of any rules posted anywhere
{I can feel the crosshair}
I don't want to be any part of this twisted love affair between god and Lucifer
Figure it out, don't ******* up there, I'll purch on YOUR shoulder, whisper crazy into your ear

Let's see who fears who here...

©2023
Amanda Kay Burke Oct 2023
Love is crazy

Long lonely nights
Short stories told back and forth on a landline until the battery on the handset dies

We try forgetting days that haunt us like restless ghosts but they linger like the adhesive left when you peel the sticker off the back of a lighter..
It's the little things that stick with us the most
Next page