Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Megan Joseph
love is a drug;
once you have a taste
you can't get enough.
maybe that's why I am afraid,
afraid to take a sip,
a bite,
a whiff,
of love,
i might overdose.
Merinda Aryadelina
Waiting for love to be mine
It's 8.372 days and i'll be just fine
lick my wrist till I drip blood

my soul has been weary

for the sadness I conveyed

so on this one last time

let me be in my eternal slumber
Racheal Rodriguez
I have a lot mistakes in my life
Question is am I going to lie
About my mistakes.
No, I’m not.
I could stand in front someone
Say I’m wrong I did it.
It’s best to admit to your own mistakes.
Than to walk with guilty Conscious
I’m different than anybody else.
I speak with wisdom and truth
Whit Howland
This is really
about the wire

a lightly
penciled line
in the air

the birds like
high lights
underscores or arrows

it's what's

almost erased
or slightly out of reach

© Whit Howland 2019
The arrows will always point to what you need to see or know.
Kelly McManus
Struggling more and more
sinking deeper and deeper
the quicksand called man

             Kelly McManus

but no longer
i am
searching for myself in others
i am not
anymore, and it makes me
i can't say that i'm
the happiest i've ever been
but no longer

I found a home inside myself
I can live without you,
But I can’t sit here and pretend
It would be fun.
I am fully capable of surviving on my own.
my heart feels so badly used
it turns out I wrongly chose my muse.
Leonard Cohen
Like a bird on the wire,
like a drunk in a midnight choir
I have tried in my way to be free.
Like a worm on a hook,
like a knight from some old fashioned book
I have saved all my ribbons for thee.
If I, if I have been unkind,
I hope that you can just let it go by.
If I, if I have been untrue
I hope you know it was never to you.
Like a baby, stillborn,
like a beast with his horn
I have torn everyone who reached out for me.
But I swear by this song
and by all that I have done wrong
I will make it all up to thee.
I saw a beggar leaning on his wooden crutch,
he said to me, "You must not ask for so much."
And a pretty woman leaning in her darkened door,
she cried to me, "Hey, why not ask for more?"
Oh like a bird on the wire,
like a drunk in a midnight choir
I have tried in my way to be free.
to undo the part of myself

curled as thin twine on her finger-
that pallid tissue paper skin
wrapping a network of crimson lighting.

veins turn violet
underneath layers of that kind...
my words cannot excavate every color.

yes your eyes were
a freshly struck match;
brief sight before returning
to cold outlines of breath in the dark.

i’m returned to their glow
every time i wish
i could isolate a melody
that feathers my cheek.

(scribble the chords on a napkin

for when you get messy)

you know i’m deaf,
but my eardrums still quake
at the sound of falling pins
and dancing angels.
Zaynub Elshamy
His love is dangerous
of this I am well aware
I will never feel secure

So if I know the risks
why do I keep returning
what is it I am seeking

My yielding to him
says much more about me
of that I absolutely agree

He's like a virus in my blood
hazardous to my soul
but still my only goal

Why should I want to hurt myself
can I really be so shameless
but his control over me seems endless
Luna Maria
we love
as hard as we
fall apart
on our worst days
atticus wilson
We are all addicted
But not to any drug or drink
To a screen
Light up, look
Light up, look
We all do it
Wait for that snap
That text
That tweet
Light up, look
Light up, look
Slaves to a screen
Unable to put them down
Fear that we won’t know things that happen
If we just put down our phones
The irony is, I wrote this online, on my phone
The graveyard is a
mouth of crooked teeth,
with an ambiguous smile.
Mystic Ink Plus

Genre: Micro verse
Theme: Privileged
Author's Note:
He/She might not say
Anything casual

Expect something
Calm to ears
When my brothers dog died.
In his eyes crumbling,
The loudest silence I've ever heard.
Aurora RW
She sees me open
My heart to the world inside
I see only dark
it was 4am when
i noticed his text.
“are you up?” he asked.
rubbing my eyes, i answered,
“yeah. need to talk?”
because anyone who is awake
at 4am is either heartbroken
or in love.
and i am very, very
your lips on mine

but i feel


i know i should

i want to

i need to

i try to

but i don’t
D Letwixt
I've disappeared into myself
And reality seems
Alex B
it’s hard to tell
where it ends
and “I” begin.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems too *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.
keep your eyes closed love.

           e     t      
       m           i
    o                 m
s                        e  
                            s     all you have to
                                                                ­ l                  is to what the sound
                                                           ­      i            n
                                                  ­                s           e
                                                               ­          t

                                                              ­                               v
                                                               ­                         a        e
                             ­                                          of the  w               s
                         ­                                                                 ­            tells  you
                                                                ­                                        to do.
"keep your eyes closed love. sometimes all you have to listen is to what the sound of the waves tells you to do"

When I was much younger, beaches were my second favorite places. I still love watching waves as they go by, crashing against each other and the whole process repeating all over again.
She's smiling
Someone made her eyes glow
I've tried, I guess I can't be that reason

Mine is gone
She's my reason
Yet  I can't smile for them
hays la na gid?
BM Green
I want you wrapped around me
I want your fingers between mine
Your breath over my body
Breathe life into me
I beg you
I want your name engraved on my lips
Your sweetness covering every piece
Molded together
I need you
Inside me, my mind, all of me
Fill my missing parts
Smooth my broken edges
I surrender
Put me back together with your body
With your words
Force me to be hole again  
Blow, break, burn, cool and make me new
Wrap your name tight around my insides
Brand me
I can be what you need
Never ending cravings
I’ll fulfill your needs
I was born to make you feel it
Nat Lipstadt
Hosannah (Mombo from Missoura)


Hosannah (Hebrew): an exclamation of joy, adoration

who says Hosannah anymore, I think, recalling
a question reversed,^ one, long ago, that she sent to me,
the answer comes, a puddle splashing grandmother,
Mombo from Missoura

a what?

doesn’t matter

Periodic perusals of the small fine poems here, jewels lost in the kerfuffle,
At once, a signet ringing word jumps into my historical consciousness,
That little place, where the childhood was puzzled, but purified, remembering
That little boy, in synagogue, lost amid a congregation chanting
             Hosannah! to
Yahweh, ghost god, user of intermediaries-whisperers,

Mombo from Missoura (today’s guest voice)

selected by greater forces to make him recall the unity of many voices

his squeaking tone, found among that pure noise
that went to god’s heart direct

exclaiming in joy, adoration of
a majesty unfound on Earth,
sealed with a Selah,
crowned with Hallelujah

that god who never, incapable of forgetting,
still chats with him, that boy, now a boy~poppy,
from time to time,
recalling when together,
they too, puddle jumped,
looking for oil drop rainbow spots
so they could unison shout out loud

Hosannah! A rainbow on Earth

Sabbath Sept. 14, 2019

^ ”who writes poems like this?”
did you think that a poem would not be forthcoming,
A clear sky
No grey sight
With fist full of desires
green dreamy eyes
I fly away
Ariana Bagley
I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.
I’ve been floating aimlessly
in a dark and icy sea,
waiting, just waiting,
for life to make something
out of me.
i would give you
all the stars,
all the planets,
just to see that smile
It's just that
i'd like someone to
write for me
just once
i'd like to be the object of affection
i'd like for someone to find
that beauty my mother keeps telling me
i have inside
i'm not complaining
but you see
i'd just like to be the
and not the poet
for once
ting is
your           life
thro             ugh
a ne           edle
and         if
you sew
i used hate the way i would be awake at four in the morning.
i remember the way everything used to feel so haunting and scary.
there were no words to describe how deep inside my mind i would sink into,
scared and afraid of no return.

but now,
oh now,
i love it.
i fell in love with the quiet.
there was no more worry or fear.
instagram : @heavenforecaster
He gave me dead flowers
So I can smell them every day
The rotten petals falling
The color of decay

The washed out sunflower
The dehydrated leaves
The mold on the water
The color of debris

The richly red rose
Now drooping to the floor
The color of love
Existed no more

But still I saved the flowers
And smelled them every day
And watered them with tears
To let them grow again.
I wore my heart on my sleeve
vibrant and true
but you ignore the wash label
bleached anew
I wore my heart on my sleeve
and became stained by you

- i need a new jumper
Ellis Holden
In meditation they teach you to turn everything off.
Flick the switch on your thoughts.
Now, I'm a master at that.
I stare blank at the floor.
The boards are thin, dark wood, and recently restained.
There's a scratch the size of my fingernail in the right corner.
   -I seem to have lost the switch.
Next page