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Carlo C Gomez
You prefer to come
To me in the dark.
"You're more my temperature then,"
You once said.
I'm not much of a thermometer,
But I am the eurythmy
To each syllable you give
In such settled shadow.
A play of murmurs and fingertips
You once named this.
Always I see a wreath in your hair,
In colors of Persia,
Textures of night,
And the soft blended lines
Of you I know
Vespertine - occurring in the evening.
Once, I had a vision.  I knew I would change.
I knew that the voices were more
than just voices.
They were a calling.

I don't know where they've come from,
these feelings of the dread.
Like demons scorching me,
as these voices in my head!
People in my shadows.  To those I give my trust.
What they say behind my back
is just as good as dust.
Though I know this, I'm alone,
yet I feel this obligation...
It's as if I hear their voices,
cursing me with degradation!

Still, I am afraid.  And still, I don't know why.
"It is as we choose to be, the voices never lie."
What the voices say, all badness in my head.
I can't escape this inner hell,
these feelings of the dread!
Each day and night I'm trapped
as I think about my friends;
Of where our paths shall lead us,
when this road should come to end.
These thoughts that dwell inside me,
these voices in my head;
All wicked and such dreadful thoughts.
When will all this end?

I stir and wake within my sleep,
this nightmare as it haunts me.
The voices in my head grow more,
cursing as they taunt me!
With rage that boils deep inside,
sometimes I just break;
As my eyes go red, my mind berserk,
and common sense is blank!

It's been a while since that's happened,
since that day I went insane,
when I'd blocked against my father's hand
and sent him back some pain!
That memory, that vision, that nightmare
in my head!
That  VOICE  that keeps on calling me
with these thoughts so full of dread!
I can't break free, my soul is tied,
though I know that I must live.
I don't know why, I mustn't die.
I've something I must give.

One day, someday, maybe soon
I will not think as much,
and waste away this life I have
on small things of the such.
At times I see, at times I don't,
the life that I am missing.
Just flush away the life at hand,
with all this time I'm *******.

It angers me to know and see,
and still to take the bait;
To escape for just a second more,
and forget the things I hate,
but wait...
For a short time had it lasted,
to be free of all this stress;
At times I still feel good inside,
but still I am a mess.

The voices grow in number,
calling me to die;
To see the darker sides of things,
spewing forth their lies.
The voices taunt and whisper,
showing me the bad.
They recall of my insanity,
and of my poor old man.

For as long as I have love,
and as long as I have hope,
I will fight to block them out,
and with these feelings cope...

"But what's the point in loving,
for feelings all depressed?"
spat the voices with their badness,
I shall never find my rest...
Yet the voices cloud away
as I smoke another bowl.
I've been high as hell all day,
but I haven't reached my goal.
God bless my mother and father, who helped me to be better than I might have been.  Without poetry;  Without a way of expressing myself, I'd be lost to the fleeting voices of my screaming mind.
shirtless screaming through
the heartland and I used
to smoke cigarettes

she never wanted
to stay: the youth
she had
left demanded it.
now, I'll wager
she's somewhere
in an apartment with
some dandy that
wears sweater vests
to Thanksgiving dinner.

maybe she thinks
about me and my little
twisted heart every
now and again:
like when she's away
from the sweater vest
on the toilet
behind a locked door,
"be right out, babe!"
or toting groceries
through a parking lot
to her car,
or signaling a
left turn before
changing her mind
and deciding to
go straight instead.

maybe I need to
stop thinking
about her
especially after
three years

but what can I say?
I've never slept on
a bed of nails
I couldn't
dream on.
My hands were shaking,
Sure they were cold;
But really it’s because,
Yours were finally
Close enough to hold.
Eshwara Prasad
Your silence was a direct infliction of harm on my mind.

You could have used any other direct form of violence to settle scores with me.

You chose to hit me where it hurts most.
Charlie Keen
While I had spent my time
Talking somebody's ear off about things I knew

A waste of effort it was
Not listening to opportunities

I could've had now
your touch releases a chemical
that nurtures my brain
into thinking love is
what exists between
the two of us
but as dreadfull as the
night can feel
one touch does
not turn these bodies
into shadows
Randi Nichols
I write my name in places;
    desks, paper, buildings, trees
    because I am afraid if I don't,
    no one will remember i exist

I feel like I float through life
    as an extra in everyone else's show
    there for a moment
    forgotten just the next.

I don't cross their minds
    my name is like a word no one can remember
    my presence a thing that no one misses
    and no one is affected by me

So with this feeling I might as well
     just pack my bags and leave
    this place with nothing more
    than my name on a tree

three women looked in at me
one black man barely glanced,

I couldn't step onto the stage
that year, or any other year.

thirty thirteen year-olds
moved into the arena like cattle

wearing too much lipstick. unstoppable.
385,000 babies entered the world that day,

all crying. I became irritated, anxious,
like I needed to go back in time.

I kept reading, losing my breath, until I had to leave the room.
c. Feb. 27, 2021
Ciel Noir
there are many messages
that I would like to send to you
I have chosen to say nothing
silence is a message too
Lee Brewer
I drag the blade across my jagged skin
My breath is heavy and cold
Tears pour down my face as cutting never gets old
A lot is pouring out
I hate this addiction, it needs to stop now
But it can't, I can't
I cut to feel something, I hate feeling numb
It only helps for a second
This poem is kind of a look into my mind when I self harm
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
shianne rose
there are two types of sadness

there’s the kind of sadness
we ignore and
try to get rid of it
by finding new things to do
or we find someone to talk to
by blatantly avoiding any type of conversation
about feeling sad
about having any feelings at all
and then there’s that kind of sadness
that takes over
and it consumes any activity we do
we know it’s there
and there’s no possible way to avoid it
so we feed it exactly what it wants
it craves the sad music
it craves the isolation
it craves the anxiousness
and the sadness comes storming in
it has no manners
here we are calling sadness, an “it”
when all it is
is a feeling
that most people
call home
Emilio Valdez
I am a fly
attracted to your nacreous glow.

                                           Just swat me already.
Under the willow
Where I continue to wait
For you to come home
Kim Denise
It's 11:11
and for the first time
after a very long time
I'm wishing for myself
and not for you
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

No matter who you are
You have my deepest respect!

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
Hank Helman
Why is love, my only pain,
My heart in hostage, forever vain,
Sadness masks behind my smile,
My life a juried, senseless trial.

For love is often just an ache,
To not perhaps a life mistake,
Is nothing more than nothing less,
As always, life is just a guess.
Do you understand love? I don't. hh
if evil is a strong word,

then so is kind.
Salmabanu Hatim
being in your love
is like licking a lolly
messy but sweet.
Jessica B
You are not the love of my life,
You are the life of my love ❤️
i think that the most damaged people in the world
are the kindest
and the softest

because they know
that scabs can be picked
and you can bleed
Carlo C Gomez
Exiled to dusk,
Fractions of the sun
Begin to lift away,
In concealment
We shudder,
Casting our reels
Into a pond of uncertainty,
Clock hands bend
With advancing shadow,
And speak of time
Only in past tense,
I so want everything
I ever felt for you
Preserved for posterity,
Even should forever
Be far less than
We imagined.
every time we touch,
you set my heart ablaze,
striking up electricity in my veins,
freeing my mind from chains,
i want to wake up next to you everyday,
with this big smile i get,
just from seeing your face,
you make me feel loved,
you make me feel safe,
you make me want to hold on for another day,
In the deep corners of 3am,
I find her.
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about

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
It’s rare to find
people who

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 like *******.
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.
Paras Bajaj
The emptiness in my eyes,
The truth behind my lies,
The fall before my rise,
And the goodbyes;

It scares me.

The dark beneath my skin,
The light within my sins,
The voice that loudly sings,
And my broken wings;

It scares me.

The wounds I can't heal,
The pain I can't feel,
The loss I can't deal,
And when I am real;

It scares me.

The silence in my little talks,
The stillness in my moonlit walks,
The thought of separate ways,
And my numbered days;

It scares me.

The demons under my bed,
The words spinning in my head,
The blood in my sweat,
And my cold breath;

It scares me.

-Paras Bajaj #PoetrybyParas
Instagram : @mr.parasbajaj
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.
Samantha Cunha
The man
who kept
his emotions
at bay
in them
it's like the ocean is bringing me in the sadness
in the car otw to risk myself
feeling a tint of sadness while being tipsy
it's me that decides
don't know how it will turn out
worst or whatever
21 February 2021
21:16 pm
I wrote this in the grabcar on my way to meet a guy. I lost my virginity that night.
Tyrell Burnett
Parents bark, bite, and blame.

I raise my earphones' volume so high, that I don't hear my pain.
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.
i lost my soul to
a boy, somewhere far along
the way with no love
finally in shs!! been super busy and didn't get the chance to update here :(( happy new year!!
Nola Leech
He punched me last week
And told me that he was joking and that's between me and him
My friends saw and helped me break it off yesterday
Today is my eighteenth birthday
And I am nothing like my mother
I am
In love with
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