That slips into the mind
and changes you,
your actions
and your thoughts.
It can be a friend
or foe,
saving you
or suffocating you.
The worst part is
when the parasite leaves
against your will
it releases a poison.
A poison that burns
away at everything
you are and takes
what feels like forever
to heal.
Nov 19, 2020
Nov 19, 2020 at 3:06 PM UTC
What if I told you
that the greatest writer
was a little girl
who filled
diaries with her wonderful
tales, stories, adventures.
She wove a world
as big as the sky,
lore as deep as the ocean,
she loved every second
spent with pen in hand.
When she was older,
she visited an editor.
He took one look at the
tattered diaries she brought
and burst out laughing.
Her dreams shattered,
she left in silence.
Hiding the diaries,
she screamed
until no words were left.
And so, the greatest writer
became an accountant,
hating every second
spent with pen in hand.
Day by day, month by month,
her love of writing faded
as words lost their meaning.
And so, the greatest writer
never shared her stories again.
Nov 14, 2020
Nov 14, 2020 at 4:06 PM UTC
Sleep, sweet release
From life, from living.
Dreams, promises
Of better times and hope.
Sleep, cruel mistress
That leaves too soon.
Dreams, lies
Of false realities and hope.
Sep 28, 2020
Sep 28, 2020 at 1:42 PM UTC
You can run and hide
In your novels,
In your poems,
In your dreams,
But know,
We'll be waiting.
Sep 28, 2020
Sep 28, 2020 at 1:39 PM UTC
Their wisdom is old
and rooted in the earth
They teach the power of
silence
While we're too busy
talking
to listen to the lessons.
Sep 28, 2020
Sep 28, 2020 at 1:36 PM UTC
I think of you today, as I often do
And with aching heart and shaking hand
I’ve decided to write a poem, about you, for you.
Because I want you to know that I love you.
I love your hair, the way it falls and flows,
And the way you dress takes my breath away.
I love the sound of your voice
And the idea of your hand in mine.
Above all, I love your mind
Every shining star and every dark corner.
In truth, I love everything about you.
But these are the words I’ll never say.
Because if I do, I could lose you.
Instead I’ve started telling myself
I don’t love you anymore
And maybe, one day, I’ll believe it too.
Sep 24, 2020
Sep 24, 2020 at 4:28 PM UTC
I've never told you,
But I've loved you for years.
I know you don't feel the same,
But I always hoped that somehow
You would fall in love with me too.
I never minded waiting
Just being around you was enough,
But these days, you've become so distant
I wonder if you even care at all.
Even when I was drowning in my own darkness,
I answered your calls and listened to every problem you had.
And then, when I needed someone, I reached out to you,
But you ignored every single plea for help.
Now, my heart is slowly dying
And I don't know how to stop it or who to tell.
With its final fading beats it clings to my love for you,
But even that is slowly fading.
And somehow, I feel it's all my fault.
Sep 23, 2020
Sep 23, 2020 at 2:11 AM UTC
There exists a special type of insanity,
Only known to poets
And those who adore poetry.
It is something that cannot be explained
Or described, only experienced.
And those who experience it
Are never the same. They know
The burning need to write and read
And the comfort of finding yourself
In someone else's words.
This madness holds a hidden truth:
No one chooses this insanity.
Instead, it reaches out to those
Broken, disillusioned, embittered
And held captive, by life itself.
I do not ask you to pity the poets,
Or those captivated by poetry,
But the next time you see one
Ask them: Why do you love poetry?
And watch as their eyes light up.
Sep 22, 2020
Sep 22, 2020 at 3:14 AM UTC
We live in a society
Is a weak excuse for and an incompetent summary
Of our sad and broken world.
A world where women
Are prudish for being modest
And ***** for being anything more
Are objectified and criticized
For being fat, skinny, smart, stupid,
shy, bold, brave, cowardly
And so much more.
A world where men
Are so afraid of being weak
We lie to ourselves and each other.
The worst men are not the weak ones,
But those who fear the power of
Women who stand up for themselves.
These men will tell you that you are wrong
That women are objects to be judged
And that they need to be controlled.
A world where I
Want to scream that women
Are not flawed for the way they look or act
That the world is flawed for judging them
A woman is not an object,
Not a beautiful flower or precious pearl,
But a human being.
A world where I
Want men to understand
That standing up for women
Is strength and not weakness.
And that admitting weakness
Does not make you less of a man,
It makes you human.
I do not pretend to be better
Or know more than you
I am just so tired of hearing
We live in a society.
Sep 21, 2020
Sep 21, 2020 at 2:12 PM UTC