Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 619° 
Ruheen
Demons are just FALLEN ANGELS.
They fell
From HEAVEN to HELL,
And unlike angels,
DEMONS have a STORY to tell.
Good and evil.
It's just two sides of the same coin.
 420° 
Ella
You are my friend,
When your happy I'm happy,
When you smile I'll smile,
When you laugh I'll laugh,
When you hurt I'll hurt,
When you care I'll care,
When you cry I'll cry,

If you jump off a cliff,
I'm gonna miss you.
Side by side
or miles apart,
Friend are always
close at heart ❤❤❤
 220° 
Kezz
Sun
I crave the sun.
I crave the feeling of the heat wrapping my skin in tranquillity
and beams bringing braveness to my being.

So when the clouds crawl across, I wait.
I wait for its smile to creep out from behind the obstruction.

Patience is not my forte
but I wait
because the sun gives me what many cannot.

A warmth that asks for nothing in return.
 210° 
Heavy Hearted
Just because every leaf & stem, n all the greenery of foliage-
Twists up to the sun;
Doesn't mean some flowers won't still bloom in shadow.
Don't discredit a blossom in the dark- Though the light hits the leaves,
the truth of each petal
Is privately dispatched,
Through each color- and in each shape

of every sentimental rhythm.
 210° 
youcancallmesierra
know that it's cold
i see you shivering
before we go
let me commit this to memory
i love us like this
i could be here with you forever
at the touch of your freezing lips
i could bear through any weather
 180° 
Anmol
The way you stalk
Melts my heart.
The way you talk
is a priceless art.

Your voice was precious
Music to my ear.
Your fragrance was momentous
Immortal for years.

The smile you spread
A piece of magic.
The way you cared
Was not sporadic.

The time we spent
The giggles we shared
The memories we counted
Were all greatest.
 154° 
ranveer joshua
one sip turns into two drinks
two drinks too many
words start spilling out of your mouth
words of hatred
words of insecurity
words of humiliation
words of mockery
if only that drink had spilled instead.
 151° 
Mydriasis Aletheia
Unto the self.

Sometimes I fear my ventures are too vast in scope
but I cannot fault my curiosity or love of crafts.

It's all that there is, left here for us.
An infinity of eternal resolution.
It beckons, strange tidings
 147° 
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.
 138° 
Batchelor
Sweet flowers grace my nose,

Only to be met with disdain.

I still prefer the little harlot's.
Lilith, Johanna, little clone of Janus.

Dana O Hara O Dana.
June 2017.
 127° 
purple turtle
When I was a mere child
I would wake up as soon as the
Sun broke out in rays
A radio would be placed on a table in our little porch
And its songs always brought me joy
Oh, what nostalgia
The Carpenters would sing their
comforting music
Bread would sing their heartfelt songs
Whenever Perhaps Love would come, I would close my eyes and wander about my future life
 124° 
amanda
if you got
everything you’ve ever wanted
you’d be bored
...
this is what katie told me
and i think she’s right

if you fell in love with me
and i got to know what
you felt like inside of me
or what ‘i love you’
sounds like coming out of
your mouth...

i’d walk away as quickly
as i walked in
 105° 
Kata
There is a warmth missing from me
A coldness about my being
A kindness put to sleep
I don’t care enough
Perhaps I once did, perhaps I will again
But that part of me is broken, now.
I have this timid fear
Of never being able to care enough
Maybe this is the warmth missing from me.
The empty coldness that shadows my happiness
The uneasy sway to my stillness.
My great discomfort.

- Kata
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.
 90° 
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.
 88° 
Ammar Younas
Night sits on my chest
Squeezes poems out of me
And grinds my poor soul
 86° 
Aryan Sam
Hi
Years ago
We stayed up till
3 am talking,
And today
I don’t even know
How to say hi,
 86° 
Sunny Parmar
you want things
but don't wanna work for it
isn't that funny?
don't take it personally
 86° 
DAF
we were screaming
then there was silence
unsure of which was worse
 83° 
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.
 76° 
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.
 75° 
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.
 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)
 69° 
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° 
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
 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
 67° 
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 ❤️
 61° 
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.
 58° 
bones
blank faces
I still remember yours

your face in the dark
my pupils dilate

all the faces
I still want to see

don't turn away
I want to always remember yours

all these faces
none compare to mine

do you think it's good to forget our names too soon

faces
am I just a face
a stranger out of place

don't forget my name

why do all our encounters
fade away like a dream
 58° 
Mrs Timetable
I love you only on
Sunday
Monday
Tuesday
Wednesday
Thursday
Friday
and
Saturday
 57° 
Sophia
This is it world,
Goodbye.
Dont look for me
you wont find me. :(
goodbye
 52° 
The Foody One
What am I?
I do not know;
This thing inside
is beating, though.
16/03/2019
 50° 
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!  :)
 50° 
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
 50° 
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.
 49° 
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?
 49° 
lynnie
the spice of cayenne
and fragrances of
depression
but in the background
sounds of
happiness
 48° 
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° 
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.
 47° 
Sunstrike
When butterflies fall in love, do they feel humans in their stomach?
Next page