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 30° 
cacti

I'm afraid,
Scared to death,
That when I wake up,
I am someone else.
Through all these days,
I stay wise,
Even though my mind,
Is going wild.
This is the story of my life,
I 'split' to anyone,
A stranger I never knew,
A person I never met.
My mind speaks,
Between two,
One is like me,
The other is who?

For when I lost myself in those times I was not 'me'.

ㅡn.s
 29° 
rivy

Time passes me by and I realize I'm so much bigger and yet so much smaller than I hoped to be.
I don't watch good films. I don't read enough or write enough. I don't think enough.
I don't play guitar; a couple chords is all I know, I'm afraid that's as far as I'll ever go.
I don't sit and write songs on paper, I type them out and forget about them ten minutes later.
I don't have people I can call friends; at least not anymore.
I've distanced myself from everything and everyone I ever loved.
I don't speak spanish, french or romanian. I've never seen the ocean or been kissed on the lips.
I only know a couple words in italian.
I don't go to parties. I don't have a job or a good credit score.
I don't have pretty handwriting. My mom doesn't like me; she might love me sometimes, but she doesn't like me.
My father doesn't know me,
I'm afraid by now he forgot how to pronounce my name.
I spin in circles and dream of a life of happiness, love and fame.
I dream of picking my own wall paint and moving my furniture around the place.
I dream of saying I own this house and everything inside,
myself included.
I can close my eyes and enjoy some expensive wine,
I earned it.
I dream of a lover who understands that I might be happy but no amount of love could ever ease the pain or heal the hole in my brain.
I let the good thoughts escape,
the bad ones remain.
I dream of someday being able to look at my left hand and not see the purple-hued bruise that my mother left behind when she pushed to the floor that one time; it's not the first time she hits me or steals me from my dignity,
I should be used to it.
I close my eyes and I allow myself to feel the pain.
My body is weak.
I feel her dragging me to the bathroom and yelling at me.
The pain is everywhere,
I'm too dizzy to think.
The neighbors listen to her screams, my cries
But they pretend it's alright.
So the next morning when my math teacher asks me why I missed class
I look down, then he looks down and asks me why my hand is lilac
I tell him I fell, it was late at night and I didn't have my glasses on,
It's alright,
I fell.
I take the test I missed. I hold back tears while reading words that look like greek to me
I fail.
I could have died that night.
I could have died the next day.
I spent the next three years thinking about committing suicide.
She tells me she's sorry, it won't happen again. That was the last time she ever laid her hands on me; out of pity or fear that she might end up committing an inescapable felony.
She tells me she loves me,
I tell myself that love doesn't feel like daggers buried deep into your left hand.
Those broken bones never mend.
I'm almost twenty now,
I was fifteen then.

*trigger warning: abuse/suicide
 29° 
Anne Hanratty

The sky meets the sea in the middle, I am told,
Yet does not greet it, for it is grey and old.
One day, however, I did see with such zeal
The two embrace the lonely pier
With warm blue smiles
That took my breath away.
And still I walked across the sands of Time
And still the sea crept closer,
And when the Tide took hold of me
I did not try to hide from it;
Two smiles only became brighter.
I said 'Farewell' to a somewhat sweeter sea and
Scoured the beach for Treasure:
I found an Open Book among the beach jewels and the Pleasure.

Death is the twin of sleep, they say
 28° 
RisingUp

Before the illness descended on my brain
I never felt particularly insane

Eating disorders are not all about wanting to be thin
The pain is much deeper and emerges from within

Your self concept is shattered.

I don't think others understand
What it takes to recover, to escape quicksand.

Eating disorder thoughts are rotten and cruel
They convince you that you are a complete fool

They spit negativity into your head
You believe your thoughts, tears are shed.

Your appearance in the mirror you continue to hate
Vile thoughts continue to berate

Try living with that constant dread
Like walking around with a boulder on your head

At some points wishing you'd be better off

...

Recovery.

Congrats! You've gained weight!
Your physical health has returned, look at that heart rate.

But I gained more than I wanted to gain.
My mind is spinning, the thoughts are insane.

My mind is battling a war each day.
As I try to go to school, be a human, be okay.

The strength and will to do that is intense.
To live with your mind continually on a fence.

To have restriction sit in the back of your mind.
As you try to keep up with school and not get behind.

It is not a choice.
The voice.
Is not a choice.

But recovery is.

To try to live how I want to live.

If you come across someone battling this fight
Commend them on their courage and might.

Be their support.
Even though you may not understand.
Lend a listening ear or a helping hand.

Be the difference in their day.
Help stop their thought spiral, remind them they're okay

Anything you say
Makes a difference.
Acceptance
Love
Care
Makes a difference

Love and care will fuel their fight
To know their thoughts are not right.

 27° 
17morae

every hero fears
that some rapt admirer will
learn the awful truth

 26° 
laura jessica

never ending love
never ending lov
never ending lo
never ending l
never ending
never endin
never endi
never end
never en
never e
never
neve
nev
ne
n
no
not
noth
nothi
nothin
nothing
nothing l
nothing la
nothing las
nothing last
nothing lasts
nothing lasts f
nothing lasts fo
nothing lasts for
nothing lasts fore
nothing lasts forev
nothing lasts foreve
nothing lasts forever.

hi! this is interruption of love. if you have a different idea i respect that! please respect mine xx
 24° 
Alexa Grace

What gives them the right to say
everything will be okay?
When in fact,
years and years have passed
with my emotions masked.
I struggle through each day
without the strength to say,
I hate the useless fights.
I cry myself to sleep each night.

I've mastered the art of silent tears.
Each night. Each month. Each year.
My family tries to understand my emotions,
claims they've been in this same motion
but, oh, how could they have been?

I watch from the outside,
continuously struggling to get inside.
I watch the family of four,
though only from the door.
And ask myself,
Where am I in this mix?
It's simple. I merely don't exist.

But it didn't start off this way. No.
When exactly did I go?
My soul is trampled on.
My heart seams simply gone.

I watch as my siblings change,
growing each and every day,
and here I am staying precisely the same.

They say I'm afraid to develop.
When in fact, I've simply given up.
They say each day is a token.
Then why does it just leave me broken?
When I try to explain,
they say don't complain.
But they just don't see,
It's not my surroundings that make me unhappy.
It's simply what's inside of me.
Which happens to be nothing.

So now I will ask,
When will this pass?
Another day. Another month. Another year.
How long must I continue with these silent tears?

My first poem! It's a bit of a sad one, but it really exemplifies my emotional struggles recently. My friend said she really related to it, so I thought I would share it. Thanks for reading.
 24° 
Mims

"You're really good at poetry!"

"ha, I'm good at romanticizing toxic situations"

Don't know if that's good or bad
But thank you anyways
 23° 
Lauren Salvo
Dad

Dad,
What do I do?
You can't be proud of me
for sleeping with a man
who acts like a boy and
doesn't treat me like I am
perfect even though I'm not.
Isn't that what we're supposed to do?
I mean, down here, we are definitely
not angels even though I know you
would treat me like one every day.
We are human here.
we cannot love perfectly,
but aren't we supposed to try?
Why do I wish that he was laying
next to me every night
when I go to sleep like he used to?
I know you would be my verbal
reminder that he is the one
who is missing out on something
that could be beautiful
if he would just let it.
You and God have blessed me
with the loving words of others
that make me stronger and tell
me that everything will be better
than okay someday,
but it's just not the same.
Why do I take those people
for granted?
I guess it's because, once again,
I am human. I am selfish.
How did this happen?
He calls my name
and I run back to him.
You can't be happy with me
for feeling like I need someone
who doesn't cherish my soul.
Remind me that I need the love
of you and God. I wish
you were here. I wish my questions
turned into answers, but it's not that easy.
It's not that easy without you here,
Dad.

 23° 
Jess Balingit

Somehow,
it convinces you to swallow
a constant flow of
molten tar,
soon to blacken the pink
matter that resides
in you,
eventually oozing through the
pores of your paper-thin
skin –
and once you finally
unlock your jaws to
scream,
The ones you thought would
save you shove it back
down your throat with
laughter.

 23° 
Francie Lynch

____________________­____________________­____________________­____________________­____________________­____________________­____________________­____________________­____________________­____________________­____________________­____________________­______________

Finally. I'd been striving for a one word poem. After achieving it, I wanted a no word poem. Here it is. I guess this is no longer mine, but ours.

"The Invisible Poem" was selected as the Daily.
I'm humbled... to say nothing.
But I believe a response is necessary.
To all those who liked, loved and commented, I say thank you. I've read all you've written, and most of it is very creative and complimentary.
There are others, detractors, who claim "Bullshit," etc.
Well of course, this only begs the question, "What is poetry?"
I can't answer that. I've written on it. But what I do know is what poetry should do. Its purpose.
If a poem should arouse emotions, bad or good, make people think, have people want to write, to express themselves (and I believe I'm on the mark here), then, anything can be a poem. Even a page with lines on it.
Thanks again to all the readers.
And if you're still pissed off, don't attack me... go after Elliot. :)
 23° 
Derailed
End

At the end of the day,
I'm left alone,
With nothing but my thoughts.

 22° 
Phoenixstar

Influence passion
light the flame
to entice desire
    that scorch flesh
    burning through pages
    entire

 22° 
Em

Your eyes can say one thousand words.
A picture
of the galaxies,
framed by your long lashes
which have the strength to latch onto me

Your eyes can say one thousand words
But you have not yet given me
the map
the legend
the dictionary
or the puzzle's key.

 21° 
Lauren Johnson

And for the first time in forever,

I danced alone in the kitchen at 1am

without the help of alcohol

 21° 
sara galluzzo

I Am Lost
I am handsome
I am caring
I do good in school
I have friends
I am happy  

I like a boy
He’s sweet
And pretty
He smells heavy of cologne
But I like it
He's in my fourth period history class
He’s very funny in class
I talk to him Sometimes
But I don't think he knows I like him

“Basketball is a very important sport”
“Basketball is essential in my life; if I do not play I will become sick and die”
“No I don't understand question 7”
“Yes Brandon, I believe the basketball should be part of our national flag”
He's a macho kind of guy
So I can't flirt with him all that much
Six months ago I ran into him the hall
He looked so good with his hair pushed back and his new jacket
I couldn't help but smile

The next day I told him how I felt
I didn't know he’d tell all his friends
I didn't know how fast news could travel
I didn't know they'd make fun of me
I didn't know they'd say awful things about me
I didn't know people would treat me different
I didn't know how I felt was a sin
I didn't know how my parents found out
I didn't know why my dad stopped talking to me
I didn't know who to talk to
I didn't know how badly I needed it to stop
Until one day ; it did
I am bound to societal norms
I am drowning in discrimination and unequal rights
I am forced to live my life the way others see best
I am numb to the pain that tags along with each name that is thrown my way
“Gay“ “Freak“
“Loser”
I lost my friends
I lost my appetite
I lost my will power
My grades dropped
And so did my mood
I became an outcast
A loner
I was sad every day
I cried every hour  
But from now on that won't be a problem
I won't be problem
I'm going to stop this the only way I know how
I never knew what it was like to be in love
I never married
I never had kids
I never graduated
I never had a judgement free zone
I never had positive thoughts
I never found help  
Last wednesday when my eyes shut for good
I only hope
I opened someone else’s

 21° 
Rebecca

I know you'll love me in a different way,
in a better way.
I'll try my hardest to love you just the same,
in a better way.

 21° 
meekah

i can’t write about what it feels like
to run my fingers through your hair
or feel your hands on my skin
(no matter how much i want to)
i can’t speak to the softness of your lips
or what it sounds like
when you whisper my name
(no matter how much i want to)
i don’t know what the skin on your hips
feels like after you’ve showered
or what it’s like to wake up
to your breath on my shoulder
(no matter how much i want to)
i can’t write about the feeling
of our skin
soft and rough
holding hands
(oh god, i want to)
i can’t write about you
in anything other than the abstract
no
matter
how
much
i
want
to

 21° 
Kay

she was not fragile like a snowflake.
she was fragile like a bomb.
and i didn't know which was scarier-
                                                        ­  her explosion or her calm.

part 2
 20° 
Left Foot Poet

<!>
inspired by a conversation with Maira Kalman


strap on a name, adopt a persona, let my fingers do the talking,
place the instrumental sharp point tip upon the blankety blank paper,
maestro baton raised, coordinating,
the first sound, the vocal chords trembling,  
the first thought, the ultrasound image, entrance of a first violin,
coalescing into, into the initializing single primary phonation,
the stinging geometry of chance at last,
throwing  down the gauntlet, glove slapping, and the
tendons tense, the mouth opens, release and indentation,
a letter's curvature, a black and white downward stroking,
a sign is televised, revealed and released

a one way only sign

time bends knee, gravity suspended, terror morphs to
expelling rapid firefights of imagery needy for spacing,
even pauses mid-word  leave just this:

where is the in in
intimate?

are you the in in
inmate,
or the jailor at the gate?

you swear never again

until committing once more,

a sentence commutation, by committing a first sentence,

and the greater toll taken and paid for,

and the in in in-nate,
questions your sanity

happily


<•>

9/17/17 10:55pm

 20° 
everly

i lay here again
as i wonder what it’s like to be felt
ferverously by your curious hands.
pero
i’ll be patient and alone
waiting for only you to claim
my throne.

 19° 
Ira Desmond

I hope I die in summer

on a humid night
when the grass is yawning and stretching out
toward the moon,

and the frogs are croaking on
like a chorus of metronomes
as the last curls of life wisp away from my body,

a final reminder
that things and time
will continue beautifully,

harmoniously,

without me.

 19° 
Pagan Paul

.
Once upon a time
my quill danced across your skin
as raindrops on a blade of grass.
The ink spilled like tears,
words formed around your beauty
tracing the curves of a Goddess.

Once upon a time
my heart flirted with your love
as bees above a flower head.
The feelings poured like honey,
caresses formed around your beauty
crying and caring for a Woman.

Once upon a time
my body moved with your body
as waves on a lonely beach.
The pleasure flowed like water,
tides formed around your beauty
ebbing the moans of a Lover.

Once upon a time...



© Pagan Paul (2017)

.
 19° 
Joshua Marshall

I look into those watery
eyes, years of pain upon
your face; not a breath
could calm the tides.

All of those beloved
people, traveling through
time and space; not one of
them stays alive.

 18° 
Shelby Jencyn

I guess
The difference
Between you and i is that
You saw fault lines
Where I saw a mosaic.

 18° 
Daytra

Oceans of waves
of pleasure wash over me as
my body shakes with spasm
after spasm of orgasm
Finally I can relax
as I take command,
I only need to obey
Not think, just obey
Listening to my sweet,
oh so sweet moans
Like the whimpers of an angel
my throat becomes dry
I'm exposed
open but I trust you fully
It feels so good,
like pure sweet ecstasy
My whole body
just wants to fall into
tiny pieces

 18° 
Michael

Wish for your eyes to see indeed
breathlessly wishing deep inside
your love needs you ,she needs you around here longer.
but you are already half dead and the other half in a coma

doctor says it could last a day, maybe two
or even a decade.
i still need you, without you love
life essense is spiceless
i need a re-incarnation!

faith is the remaining gut
left when all hopes are excercised.
one more redemption, the only chance to life again!
i desire for you life again, not so much to seek a second chance.

for you this cup kindly pass over,
Christ also resisted with an agonizing plea at calvary
one more prayer need answered
in this heavens today
darkness!!!! we lost him
pim pim pim pim and steadily the beeps rise

the heart rate monitor regains a steady pulse
its a re-incarnation!
breath taking deep inside, i recount
God answers prayers one moment in time sometime
when we so badly make the call.

Inspired by the movie: one moment in time.
 18° 
jerrey

They say
I broke your heart
I barely
Hurt the surface
You will
And you can heal

You tore
Shredded, my soul
You broke
It slowly, burned it

You broke
Shattered, my spirit
You killed
It, stabbed, overkill

You ruined
Tormented, my mind
You tortured
It, excruciating, crushed

My soul
Can never heal
My spirit
Can not resurrect
My mind
Can never forget

Pieces just gone forever, no way to
Get them back

So I saved what was left of them
And I left you

do they understand now? but everyone cares more about a broke heart then a broken soul
 18° 
Warren Bodnaruk

I’ll confess,
That these sleepless nights,
Filled with tattered thoughts,
And blankets of dried sweat,
Are all about you.

 17° 
imperfectwords

"I can see my door, my bed, my window, my chair, and my table.

"I can feel my spine against the wall, my feet against the floor, my jaw tightly shut, and my fingernails buried in my arms.

"I can hear the wind coming in from the open window, my heartbeat rapidly thumping, and that familiar voice in my head, shouting once again.

"I can smell the dampness of the ground outside as the breeze carries it to my room, and the sickly sweet odor from the soap used on my hands.

"I can taste my blood spilling from the bite in my lip; my last harsh reminder that
        I
        am      
        still
        alive.

When you call a suicide prevention hotline, they will often ask you to describe to them 5 things you can see, 4 things you can feel, 3 things you can hear, 2 things you can smell, and 1 thing you can taste to help ease anxiety. I hope this poem helps someone struggling to look forward, because believe me, it does get better.
 17° 
Maya Shafiqah

let me tell you about being in love
being in love doesn’t teach you about life
but it teaches you about being broken

it makes you sick
angry
confuse
and lonely

it makes you wonder what you did wrong in life that makes you feel this feeling
it makes you want to rip your chest and throw away your heart because that’s where it hurt the most

your heart
your heart feel the most pain because that’s where it beats when you first look into his eyes
when you felt his hand on your hand
when you listened to his pretty little lies about how much he loves you

and you love him back
so much
so much where you give everything to him
where you open your soul to him
tell him every secrets, every flaws, everything

but instead he gives you nothing
just a nod and “oh”
or maybe he never listen at all
but there you are, pouring your heart to him

but God is fair
when He took something away from you
He will replace it with something far more better
He will ensure your happiness
He will make sure it’s the right thing for you
because who knows better than He do

so my friend, if you are broken just know that God is there for you
He is testing you to see how strong you are
so be strong my friend
it’s not the end of the world
because who know
maybe your world isn’t even begin yet

i wrote this after watching a drama about a man found a better woman after his wife left him
 17° 
klara mercy

now that you've left
i need to know
how many times
did you look me in the eyes
and wished they were her's
and not mine

 17° 
TJR

3:38am

Being trapped in a corner
Where everything stops
And simultaneously
Comes crashing down in a torrent of voices.
Echoing the same self loathing
That you beat every day, and lose to every day.

Looking desperately for a way out
Ready to sell your soul to the wrong buyer
For a quick gratification
Or just a way out.

Boxed in

Cave in, but can’t save him.

Jerking in his sleep but it’s not working

It won’t stop. His head is unlocked
Because he left his keys out of the lockbox

Struggling to breathe.
It’s only been 3 minutes

4.

5.

And then everything stopped.

And he became numb again.

Still twitching. Still feeling it.
 But buried.
Ice over the water’s surface

It came out messy, but I didn't want to touch it. It's just how it is.
 17° 
Shane Leigh

This is not poetry,
and this is not heartstrings
playing sad lullabies
in the deep spaces of your mind.

This is not poetic;
this is not reading
stanza after stanza
wanting to know what's at the end.

This is not rhythmic,
nor sensual or smooth,
nor is it flowing like words should from the tongues of those that know which words to use.

This is simple.
These are words that make sense
without peaking around corners
or hiding behind luscious similes
or over used metaphors
and out of touch symbolism.

If this is not poetry,
then
I refuse to dub myself
a poet
and will continue on,
but write prose instead.

© Shane Leigh
Enjoy (:
 17° 
Rj

None of us know each other
None of us want to even try
Or maybe it's just me
And maybe my standards
Are too high

They wouldn't understand
All these strangers down the halls
I sit alone on my bed
And hear giggles through
The walls

And no matter how hard I try
It always comes to this odd end
I have to constantly remind myself
A therapist is not
A friend

 17° 
little lion

i am not the kind of sick
that leaves the body flushed
at 104 degrees
in the middle of the winter.

                                                               ­                     i am not the kind of sick
                                                            ­                         that causes every breath
                                                          ­         to force its way back up your throat
                                                          ­                     while dragging razor blades
                                                                ­           along the inside on your neck.

                       i am not even the kind of sick
                       that comes with a vaccination
                                  or an antibiotic
                            that will chase it away.

no.

                                                               ­                           i am the kind of sick
                                                            ­                        that leaves you locked in
                                                              ­                    the bathroom during class
                                                           ­          because you can't seem to stop the
                                                             ­  flow of tears running down your face.

i am the kind of sick
that leaves your hands
sweating
and your voice
shaking
when it's your turn to order dinner
at the diner you've been to
a thousand times.
                                            
                                              i am the kind of sick
                                      that leaves you feeling lonely
                                              in a crowded room
                                      filled with the people you've
                                           known your whole life.


i am the kind of sick
                                                                ­                                 that nobody sees
                                          because it's all in my head
                                      and i can’t get it out.

depression is real. anxiety is real. bpd is real. ocd is real. mental health is just as important as physical health. take care of yourself.
 17° 
Volaré

O monogamy, sweet so monogamy
Have me by this rimy night so I may bear your cold’st kiss
To espy eyes blazed in scarlet hue
If not for this holding us part, touching firm this instance
Of what I feel now I could not feel ever,
Could I bask in aughts - a goodness too true as so a sight worth sights
If pulchritude, if vagary...
To innerstand this sorrow, this phase, this ending of me
So lovesick of vanity, this night owes me tears
But tonight she has me, by her brassiere, by lips
Tangl’d in manner and salaciousness - her being to be
Wonder of me, wonder me; if I ever your knight
Wonder if I am enough, manifest your ways unto me
Demand I exist, under your eyes
Impart this velleity, four ways for ways...
Have me, O monogamy
With you will I always be? Your sabbath, your blind’st bliss as too mine
Split with me another moment for much time has rot
Mongst this lour’st hour my heart is wounded by the thorns of essence
To think we are but not cause to this grieve
In sooth; this everly passion now a mortal’s pule
Stay with me on this last’d night
A midnight kiss, a midnight touch, fragrance, a gentle glare...
Monogamy, monogamy.

 16° 
Yoel Stein

I don't want to wake up and get out of bed
not because I'm too tired
not because I'm super lonley have no friends
But because my life in  my head are way better than my life in reality

Because in my head,
I have a chance with every girl I want, when in reality I'm the insecure loser who have no confidence to ask a girl out.
Because in my head,
I can have as much friends as I want and they all like me, when in reality I'm sometimes not even sure if my best friends even want to talk to me.
And becuase un my head
I can do whatever I want and be whoever I want, when in reality I'm just some teenager with unrealistic dreams

So please don't wake me up
let me live in my head for a while
let me live my dreams for a little
Please,
just give me five more minutes

 16° 
S P Lowe

sometimes
                                                       ­                         my
                                     ­ brain
                       doesn’t
                                                       ­     work

right
                                                ­                               and

                             my

                                              thoughts

     ­                                         scatter

               ­                                                    like
                               beads

                                     spilled
                               on
                                                              ­                 tile

floor

 16° 
Emily Mitchell

Autumn's torches lit
Red-gold licks the mountainside
Burning without warmth...

Sparks crackle and pop
Whisked away, they dance and play,
With the winter wind.

Embers fall and fade.
Bare blackened bones left bereft
Claw the cold slate sky.

The inspiration for this is the coloring of the trees in the fall, watching the bright leaves blow, and soon fall and turn brown leaving behind the dark branches scraping at the gray winter sky... like leftover charcoal on the hearth stones.
 16° 
Pat Lynett

I want you to stay
But I also want you to leave
You said it was better for you
It was better for me
But how can I see
When love is blind
I can only walk through walls
When you're by my side.

Lost love
 16° 
Olivia

Write through your wounds,
These words you inscribe in you are like the finest bandages,
they will heal you faster then anybody ever could.

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