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 203° 
emily
I take my prescribed pills with an energy drink
Monster energy if your wondering
And it's always the zero-sugar version
Because the sugar will rot my teeth.
I’m constantly on the verge of healing and destroying myself
Like a seesaw that's perfectly balanced
I am fed up with breaking my hand
And then bandaging it up myself.
I am my own executioner and doctor all in one body
The healing in the midst my own self destruction
I am the silence before an explosion
The calm before the storm.
maybe i'm just sensitive
 185° 
JT Nelson
Blue to gold
Gold to red
Red darkens
Black.

Specks of light
One by one
Filling my
View.

Low glow east
Full moon rise
Smiling at
Me.

I smile back.
 163° 
DENNY R ALLISON
One thing, it seems human nature can't abide,
    Believing, it could be on the wrong side.
 78° 
KaylaMarie
People keep asking me
"What do you want your life to look like in five years?"

they always cringe when I say
"I just want to fight long enough to open my eyes tomorrow morning."
 54° 
Teemers
I only write,
when
I am in love
or
Falling apart.
 54° 
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)
something empty
in my life
feels less empty
when i write
 26° 
Amanda Kay Burke
I tried to save you many times before
Witnessed others try to save you too
Finally I realize that the only person
Able to save you from your demons is you
I don't want to save you, only show you the light you have within you so you can use it to save yourself
 24° 
SophiaRyle
If you consider a woman less pure because you've touched her,
Maybe you should take a look at your hands.
 22° 
Mancy
You may not be
The moon or
A star or
The sun
Beaming vision to the world.

But to me
You are
The cute little
Firefly
Casting hope in me.
 21° 
Prerna Singh
Your silence
Poisons
My ears
https://ofpoetsandpoems.com
 20° 
Aimée
=====
Writing makes it real
So others understand, but
Maybe real is worse

Maybe I shouldn't give my misery
Anymore company
 17° 
Zoe Grace
I really dont know
How i feel at all, but i
Want to feel loved please.
like to be quiet,speaking
only
when you asked the question.

not sure why i came.
i think you invited me?
 15° 
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.
 13° 
emnabee
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.
 12° 
Virtuous
I think the sun has grown jealous
Of my friendship with the moon
I prefer dusk to dawn
And midnight instead of noon
 12° 
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
 12° 
cs wondering
This is not a poem;
This is an artist screaming to be heard in the abyss of life's harshest realities.

This is not romantic;
This is an artist learning to to be in love with her very self.

All this years, I have been trying so hard to create a person I could love.

Little did I realize, what I was looking for has always and-
will always be within me.

I think I've learnt to love myself.
I think I'm finally free.

This is a poem;
This is an artist screaming to be heard in the abyss of life's harshest realities.

This is romantic;
This is an artist learning to to be in love with her very self.

All this years, I have been trying so hard to create a person I could love.

Little did I realize, what I was looking for has always and-
will always be within me.

I think I've learnt to love myself.
I think I'm finally free.
I think-

— c.s wondering
Hello friends!

It's been so many years since I last came on here to create poems. I guess something sparked inside of me tonight, and just like that- I'm back.

And I hope everyone has been well x
 11° 
Max
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
 11° 
Khoi
Sabretooth slivers
on
a
jagged edge
caught in a trap my nightmare ends
flesh in a jam jar
honey
in
my bed
dreaming your way
my
lover
my
friend.
,
 11° 
Sul-E
There used to be a bottle on the wall.
It was very green.
I'm sure it was the loneliest green bottle
that I had ever seen
It used to sit on the wall
all day and all night
And every day, when I looked out of the window,
it was always in my line of sight
Then one day, a cat came along.
Something was going to happen; I could tell
The cat then accidentally nudged it
and off the wall, it fell
When it had fallen off the wall
it had dropped with a very loud sound.
There were all these little pieces of the green bottle
all over the ground
Then the cat yelped
and I knew it had gotten hurt
I could quite obviously see its paws were caked in
blood and dirt
The bottle wasn't harmful in the beginning
it did not look the slightest bit treacherous
but after a nudge in the wrong direction
it became very dangerous
Now I look back at you smiling
next to me on the big armchair
Your fingers running through your soft locks of hair.
You remind me a lot
of that green bottle.
In the beginning, you were harmless
you were all sorts of fun.
Now you hurt me.
Could you tell me why
as I don't quite know what I've done
 11° 
haysia
They said,
"The most beautiful art is
looking into someone's eyes
when they talk about the
things they love.
"
And I said,
"Or looking at someone you love.
Or maybe, just maybe,
by looking at the mirror
is the most beautiful art
anyone should appreciate."
Appreciation post for myself; for you and for everyone as well. You deserve more than the world has to offer.
 10° 
Lexie
Press me against you
Like flowers in a book
 10° 
Carlo C Gomez
Round the bend
Broken steeple
For a broken people
Bleed blood bleed
The wound won't mend

Picture postcard
It was a school house
A ***** house
The soot too heavy
The lessons too hard

Made up of new words
Becoming new things
But death is all
It will ever bring
The banquet now set
And this one's for the birds
 9° 
Tatiana
I'd set fire to the air you breathe
so you can burn with every
inhale
and
exhale
©Tatiana
 9° 
Traveler
Whether a comma, or colon:
Punctuation slows my rolling
I need no period. When I end
no Capitalization when I begin
Rulelessly I flow my art
  Not a single!
Exclamation mark
Are you not the one
Who'll know?
Where a question mark
No longer goes

Warp the structure
Bend the lines
Put in repeat
Let emotion unwind
Make yourself
Your poetry's the best
Be your own ruler
Pass your own test

Take your own road
Where ever it leads
Lover or hater
It's all poetry!
Traveler Tim
.


Hay
No matter who you are
You have my deepest respect!

Vanity
All is vanity
The meanings of passion
The aesthetic expression
The lines we draw and stay within
Even love is beyond intent
Vanity transcends
Flowing from our pens
And so we breathe again
 9° 
Ann
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.
 9° 
Luna
How to become a poet:
Let someone rip your soul apart.
And in the need of mending ,
You will replace it with words.
 9° 
Rupert Pip
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.
 9° 
Contraducción
"I'm not a poet. I don't feel like one.
I like writting. That's all."
Have a nice day
 8° 
Glenn Currier
I push through the fog of doubt
convinced on the other side
is the light of day
clear and bright.

I see your action in my life
and feel it as surely as the air sweeps into my lungs
when I wake and my body moves
into the new day.
 7° 
A W Bullen
I have
not forgotten

-you-

purring, from
the parching tree

Your unassuming
crooning wooed
the willows
of an older
England

earth-smoke

fumitory..

summer songs
of Solomon

A single sweet monotonony
dependable as harvest store

came summoning the daysleep
word delectable.
 7° 
Dom
He was smooth but not understanding
He was charming but not loyal
He was beautiful but a manipulator    
I knew this would come to and end
I knew I was a fool
He was secure but brought my insecurity
He was strong inside but not loving
He was my first but never mine
 7° 
Star BG
Human life is like a book...
The middle being birth.
The end death.
And the middle
a souls adventure of expansion.

Human life is like a book.
A grand story
unwinding with feelings as words
and moments as footmarks.

Once concluded it’s bond
in spirits core memory
to take one then
to a new book-cover of spirit.
A new beginning of
chapters where a sequel begins
with a beginning, middle, and end.
First poem of the day.
 7° 
Sarah Spencer
You betrayed yourself
when you were thinking bad things
about your body
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