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 1043° 
slr
my dad loves me when i go to the gym

says i need to get skinnier

gets me weight loss vitamins

he doesn't understand

i try to be understanding of his lack of understanding

instead i stop eating and say it is the gym

i see him proud when i lose weight

i only see myself getting fatter
i think that every poem should have a trigger warning if it is something about mental illness, eating disorder, ****** assault, etc.
 1042° 
Oumaima Rharib
My demons accompany wherever I go
They follow my trail
They rejoice over my defeat
They whisper in my ear
In a language I can't quite decipher or grasp
So come take me anywhere but here
Take me to the land of uncensored dreams and long-forgotten memories
Come rekindle the fire within me or else I will die
Come take me anywhere but here
For I desire nothing but a long restful sleep
 780° 
Erin Asuncion
Lost in the woods I once knew,
wondering where I run into,
no light, no river, no creature to talk to,
forlorn in silence I cried for you,
hear me call without a sound,
be the moon to guide me now,
whisper into my ears,
to soothe down my tears,
but tell me dear,
is it you I hear?,
 750° 
Kacie B
OCD
It's hard to explain.
The patterns in my brain
are like scratches on a CD
when all you want
is to listen to the music
but the **** thing
keeps on skipping
and repeating
certain parts
while everyone else
is dancing in their cars
and you're just trying
to drive and
breathe.
when a friend asked me what it feels like.
but there's more to it than that.
 523° 
Gina
I try to buy love
Like a shirt or a glove
When loves not for sale
It’s like my soul is in jail
 322° 
lynnie
the spice of cayenne
and fragrances of
depression
but in the background
sounds of
happiness
 310° 
Van Xuan
For almost 4 years
I can finally say to her
These words that tightly clings
In my heart

"I give up, time for me to let you go"
 247° 
Moonchild
I breathe in this uncomfortable terror
of waking up every morning,
and giving up on changing my world.

I breathe out this comfortable discomfort,
that is me knowing I can do better,
yet I feel as if I have no control whatsoever.
Written 16/02/2020
 217° 
Aaliyah Bella
I would quiver into dust for him
Convert back into the atoms and stars I once was
I would melt between the crack in the warm pavement
turn into nothing but a puddle of water  to be stepped in
I would be burnt into ashes
Become nothing but a rusted gate
I would give up every thing I possibly have
Just to hear him say I love you like he said right now
 173° 
chichee
He liked my smile but
not my laugh.
He liked my sarcasm
but hated my scars.
Between hello and we need to talk
I wanted the world and all he could give me were
three idiot words.
Again, what's on the tin. I should probably stop procrastinating.
 162° 
michaela
I cannot compose brilliant poems, sonnets, or verses,

and I cannot speak to you in Latin or Greek;

I cannot move you with any language made up by man.

Love is the only only language I could touch you with

If you only knew how much I could love you.

If you knew I love you;

If I were brave enough to tell you at all.
 148° 
Kelsey
You can't ask other people to live your life for you.
Decide your life for yourself !
 147° 
Autumn Sky
When we won’t slow down
Mother Earth does it for us

We are the virus
We poisoned ourselves

Sit with yourself
Look inside

What do you need to be happy?
Just your breath
Your aliveness

Love for all beings
Is enough

Simplicity heals
Greed is killing us

Stop using and consuming the earth...

and the animals

Before we are all stopped
For good
 144° 
Ginny
I have known
All the ways
of creating memories
With you here beside me
But somehow I lost you in the way
Some poems from my drafts
 102° 
Paras
Insomnia all night,
somniferous lectures all day.
Making plans all night,
running from them all day.
Aiming for heaven all night,
going through hell all day.

Kicking legs all night,
crossing them all day.
Gathering courage all night,
being timid all day.
Staying positive all night,
attracting negative all day.

Spreading truth all night,
riding on lies all day.
Loquacious all night,
acting introvert all day.
Living fullest all night,
dying slowly all day.
Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.
Get to know me like I do you; inside and out.
 92° 
Ammar Younas
Night sits on my chest
Squeezes poems out of me
And grinds my poor soul
 89° 
Aryan Sam
Hi
Years ago
We stayed up till
3 am talking,
And today
I don’t even know
How to say hi,
 87° 
Samantha
Noting changes.
Nothing grows.

Empty highs.
Empty lows.

I can't feel the warm,
And I can't feel the cold.

You try to make me happy,
And I try just for you.
But other than our trying,
Nothing else is new.

I worry I'll upset you,
If I can't make a change.
It's not fair of me,
To make you stay the same.
Don't let me drag you down with me.
 86° 
lisa
To love you now means to love you from distance
My eyes swelling,
Heart desolate and longing
For the sound of your voice,
Warmth of your embrace

In the midst of despairing days,
Dreary nights
And sorrowful worries
Here, I love you from afar

In loving you there is no tomorrow;
Only today
If the world crushes on a beam of light in this moment,
Will I ever see you again?
 82° 
Nat Lipstadt
~for Lori Jones McCaffery~

Lori Jones McCaffery commenting on
“a new time (poetry in the time of pandemic)”^
“Tender and brutal at the same time. Like the times.”*

                                                     ­          <>
your observation, a commission, opens an incision,
bleeding out a Noah flood vision:

                                                        ­        <>

when we begin, to compare and contrast the movable tender and the unstoppable brutal, the poetry must rise to equalize the pressure of unbalanced times, the tender, and the brutal in an uneasy peaceful coexistence, at the same time, same place
                                                           ­     
                              
                              
                            
The Brutal                                              The Tender
—————                                             —————
life in the epicenter, the greatest,       in the darkened bedroom,
noisiest city, now landscape               she awakens, her hand quick
painting quiet,                                      comes to rest on my chest,
one lives/writes/eyesights thru       the quality of motion+volume
pink mask + a minimum six              of heartbeats, is it loud enough,
feet of separation,                                steady on, no need to dial 911!
a citified tableau of macro wave       she unaware that I can hear
forces in crashing collision, upon     her loud, tender exhalation
your skin’s cells                                   celebrating surviving day#?

newspaper images of Death’s            many volunteer, food delivery,
ministers applauding the newly        though I am asymptomatic
arrived mobile morgues, for 100        my request tenderly, firmly
died yesterday,                                      denied, for I meet too many
their brutal death rattles                      of the vulnerable criteria,
overwhelmed  the super-surround.   instead, offering food to me,
sound silences of                                   to deliver to me, to deliver me,
brutal emptiness of millions of           tenderly I say, no thanks,
sacrificial                                             ­    my tour of duty, almost done
                              
                                all of us isolate lambs, in day jailed,
                                for we still breathing the maybe tainted,                
                                oxygen molecules of no safe surety      

a consummate perfection,                    the same, taming words I tell  
the holy quietus of                                 my son, young father,
those no longer breathing,                   tender me necessary tasks that
they now rest up above,                        require outside journeys, say I
hid in a white cumulus                         send me into the red hot areas
cloud cover, a noise suppressing         insert me into the front line,
sky coverlet, moving across a               militarized zones, he replies,
bright blue pure background,              ”you’re too old, part and
a train of funeral caissons,                     parcel of the most vulnerable,
brutal noisy hooves clacking             better-write-you tender-poems”

daily, hourly, the statistical alerts,         why so hard, to write tender
brief résumés delivered,                         so easy of the brutal, their
drumbeating, look now!                         curses so readily supplied,
are you up to date?                                  is tenderness short supplied?

catalog the debris, organized with brutal necessary efficacy, quantify, qualify the costs, include even the tender ineffable, countdown and graph the brutal calculus of the curve infection, and you, numbed, past the point of eyes capable of what once was tender droplet tearing

highlight the unknown faraway, the tender hope of a distant apex inflection, while plotting the second derivative, the rate of change of the rate of a brutal yet trending upward *****, the ascending all-inclusive stat, infected, the rate of change of decedents, downed, descending, giving in...gowned in hospital blue, for the funeral pyre

a city of lines, crosswalks, velvet ropes, unused, unemployed, social separators, no one about to need to separate, anymore, only the living and the dead, both staying indoors, so neither in attendance, at the empty funeral services, everybody is on the out list...

the now newly indistinguishable, the irresistible collision of two one-sides polarizing poles of no longer opposites, the tender and the brutal in a single embrace, but no, not kissing, embargoed, as we are stationed from above, far, high up on the watchtower observatory, observing the contrast dye that flies so fast on people denuded grand boulevards, down narrow hospital hallways, body-lined decorated, tales of millions of lives isolatized, and don’t forget the brutalizing discovery of scores of elderly, dying alone, withering in the dark, counted, lumped in to the category of statistically irrelevant, if dead, who cares, matters not now, in the afterworld no one asks how,
                        in a fashion both tenderly and brutal,
                        what was the actual cause?
 78° 
Ruby Nemo
i'll quit you someday,
like the light of a last cigarette
like the stop of the high before it hits
i will give up what i've given to you
you're no longer special to me,
not special like a drink today
i'll lose you if love hits too hard
to me you can matter no more
so like an old record,
that I need no more,
i'll offer you up
i'll walk out the door
because you're just another thing
I'm going to have to give up
april 2020
 78° 
The Foody One
What am I?
I do not know;
This thing inside
is beating, though.
16/03/2019
 78° 
julianna
Monsters don’t exist
Still, we are very afraid
Because we made them
Monsters. A concept so often used to represent anything dislikable to society, which we are afraid of. Yet literal monsters don’t exist.
 78° 
Tess
I never thought I'd matter
To anyone

Until you
Came along

And changed my perspective
Of the universe

You made me feel
Like I matter

And I'm grateful
For you.
 76° 
Tapiwa Mesah
A flower blossoms
In the midst of muddy swamps
It stands around the algae,
The petals smile even at the bees.

The grin of the little seeds
That the wind blows effortlessly,
Is sprayed to places and places
And preaches love and nothing else.
 74° 
Regan Wylde
I’m so tired, exhausted in fact.
Tired of waiting.
Tired of feeling.
Tired of believing.

I wish I could sleep through it all.
Dream through the hurt.
Dream through the time.
Dream through the numbness.

But I can’t sleep.
Even if I could, I’d still be tired of living.
Just a quick message, I’m unsure to who is disliking all the comments of this poem but I can assure you I like every comment, thank you all for such kind words and constructive criticism. #ignorethehate ❤️
 71° 
David Lessard
I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)
 70° 
ethan gaskill
i keep waking up
with you on my lips
but it's only your name
and not your kiss
screaming your name at night in my sleep
 68° 
Woody
You know
I don’t know
if I’m just tired
of it all
or getting old
or both
my ribs feel
like a prison
for these feelings
I’m feeling
and sleep
is a hangman
who ties
a black cloth
over my eyes
so quiet and soft
like around about
midnight.
 67° 
misha
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you
if only i could chase you with pizza but shots don't work like that
 66° 
Mrs Anybody
is it just me
or does
everything at night
seem more intensive?

the music
hits your feelings
way harder

the thoughts
scream louder
in your head

the world
is almost
completely silent


the world
seems just so
much purer
also check out my other poems!  :)
 57° 
Maja
Save me if you must.
Love me if you dare.
Turn me into dust.
Leave me if you care.
A short poem about something.
What is still not certain. But then again, is anything?
 48° 
Jason James
You were a good friend
To my *****
But you were cruel to my heart.

He misses you
But I don't.
 48° 
Sunstrike
When butterflies fall in love, do they feel humans in their stomach?
 47° 
parker
mom
stop it
just stop
please stop talking
i'm tired of talking about this
i'm tired of your excuses
listen to me
listen to me
stop talking
stop talking please
i'm trying so hard
please
stop
talking
why won't you ever listen to me
you push me this far
you push me so far
you push me
you put me here
and you can't take it back
 46° 
Natasha Tai
“speck of sunshine beneath the clouds,
daylight breaks, bring rooster’s sound.
yawns and sighs as time ticks through,
rustling sheets bid me adieu.
farewell, goodbye, I’ll see you soon,
perhaps sometime this afternoon?”
 45° 
Heather
Schrodinger and I are good friends
We have tea
Quite frequently
 45° 
Zhanara
I am an artist
I draw my life.
I am a teacher
I teach my steps.
I am a doctor
I treat my destiny.
I am a lawyer
I judge my actions.
I am a builder
I build my success.
I am a translator
I translate my opinion.
I am a  photographer
I take  my memories.
I am a writer
I write my future.
I am a chef
I cook my mood.
I am a businesswoman
I manage myself.
18/11/2018
 45° 
Micah G
Why
Can I give a girl anything  
Except what she wants
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