sofiabelhadj - Hello Poetry

She chases autumn leaves As though they’re Wild scurrying mice, Of brown and red, And yellow ochre. There’s a flurry of leaves As she pounces onto her Imaginary foe, Which barely escapes. She carefully peers beneath Her soft playful paws. In a whisp of crisp air, It vanishes.

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Oct 8, 2018

Oct 8, 2018 at 11:02 AM UTC

Molly

She chases autumn leaves As though they’re Wild scurrying mice, Of brown and red, And yellow ochre. There’s a flurry of leaves As she pounces onto her Imaginary foe, Which barely escapes. She carefully peers beneath Her soft playful paws. In a whisp of crisp air, It vanishes.

13

I am collapsing Thrashing Shaking Screaming. In my mind. It is the chokey I am trapped Trembling Scared Tear stained Heart throbbing Painfully. A hand clasps my throat I cannot breath I’m blind in my terror Words barely choke out Help me I’m rasping Help me. I look around I have not collapsed I am still standing I feel as though I’ve been pulled Back into reality.

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Oct 1, 2018

Oct 1, 2018 at 1:16 PM UTC

A mental chokey

I am collapsing Thrashing Shaking Screaming. In my mind. It is the chokey I am trapped Trembling Scared Tear stained Heart throbbing Painfully. A hand clasps my throat I cannot breath I’m blind in my terror Words barely choke out Help me I’m rasping Help me. I look around I have not collapsed I am still standing I feel as though I’ve been pulled Back into reality.

24

I am a balloon entirley surrounded by pins any one of them might make me burst The silver of metal long and sharp Holding my breath I wait and I wait In static apprehension

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Sep 28, 2018

Sep 28, 2018 at 3:43 PM UTC

Static Apprehension

I am a balloon entirley surrounded by pins any one of them might make me burst The silver of metal long and sharp Holding my breath I wait and I wait In static apprehension

10

I wish they’d leave me alone, I wish that I could be in another country, thousands of miles apart. But then I watch a video of a man crying for having cut out his father for the same reason, whose father is now dead. Do I dare do the same thing? When I see them, it’s all good, but when I leave them I know it was all pretend. I’m left with a fish bone Wedged in my throat Boulders Weighing heavy on my chest. I can’t breath. And I want to die. Is it fair that they leave me Feeling this way? With guilt leaving me tripping For days. I am told I’d be better off If I cut them out of my life. I know this, but how? How do I cut them out. When they’re like leaches ******* the blood out from my veins And when I tear them off I cry out in pain. The people Who I call Mum and dad Who I’ve been told I should love and cherish Are not the people that I want to call Mum and dad.

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Jun 11, 2018

Jun 11, 2018 at 1:19 PM UTC

Distance

I wish they’d leave me alone, I wish that I could be in another country, thousands of miles apart. But then I watch a video of a man crying for having cut out his father for the same reason, whose father is now dead. Do I dare do the same thing? When I see them, it’s all good, but when I leave them I know it was all pretend. I’m left with a fish bone Wedged in my throat Boulders Weighing heavy on my chest. I can’t breath. And I want to die. Is it fair that they leave me Feeling this way? With guilt leaving me tripping For days. I am told I’d be better off If I cut them out of my life. I know this, but how? How do I cut them out. When they’re like leaches ******* the blood out from my veins And when I tear them off I cry out in pain. The people Who I call Mum and dad Who I’ve been told I should love and cherish Are not the people that I want to call Mum and dad.

32

destruction floating a d r i f t in quite darkness. the c a l m anxiety of an ocean so v a s t it's depths sunken wrecks drowning drowned.

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Apr 30, 2018

Apr 30, 2018 at 6:38 AM UTC

Untitled

destruction floating a d r i f t in quite darkness. the c a l m anxiety of an ocean so v a s t it's depths sunken wrecks drowning drowned.

10

stuttering and stumbling as I go, I’m wild and hyper, reaching for what… I do not know. I, a bursting hazardous flame, sparking and spitting, out of control, until water is poured over me and I’m nothing more but a smouldering flame, hugging my knees to my burnt out chest, starving to be thinner, carving into and carving out my aching bones, until I could almost be snuffed out. But the raging flames keep returning, a ravenous hunger, a never-ending vicious cycle of explosive fireworks and deafening silence.

0

Apr 30, 2018

Apr 30, 2018 at 6:34 AM UTC

stifling flame

stuttering and stumbling as I go, I’m wild and hyper, reaching for what… I do not know. I, a bursting hazardous flame, sparking and spitting, out of control, until water is poured over me and I’m nothing more but a smouldering flame, hugging my knees to my burnt out chest, starving to be thinner, carving into and carving out my aching bones, until I could almost be snuffed out. But the raging flames keep returning, a ravenous hunger, a never-ending vicious cycle of explosive fireworks and deafening silence.

12

u n f o c u s e d camera lense, vivid memories blasting past becoming the past. can't f o c u s on the moment, knowing, it will become a d i s t a n t memory in the future. I need to feel something, anything.

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May 13, 2017

May 13, 2017 at 1:26 PM UTC

u n f o c u s e d

u n f o c u s e d camera lense, vivid memories blasting past becoming the past. can't f o c u s on the moment, knowing, it will become a d i s t a n t memory in the future. I need to feel something, anything.

14

I'm Stumbling Blind Reaching for a Familiar, Friendly Face; That isn't there.

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Jul 15, 2016

Jul 15, 2016 at 12:07 PM UTC

Lost

I'm Stumbling Blind Reaching for a Familiar, Friendly Face; That isn't there.

4

Leaving a mess of a trail Everywhere I go, I a wild storm wreaking havoc.

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May 2, 2016

May 2, 2016 at 6:21 PM UTC

I am Chaos

Leaving a mess of a trail Everywhere I go, I a wild storm wreaking havoc.

3

The hand strikes 12 Brandishing its ringed mark, Twelve times, 12 cries out As it is hit repeatedly, The hand passes, Leaving 12 exhausted, With the mark of the hand Red on 12s face.

0

Apr 28, 2016

Apr 28, 2016 at 7:51 AM UTC

Never Changing Time

The hand strikes 12 Brandishing its ringed mark, Twelve times, 12 cries out As it is hit repeatedly, The hand passes, Leaving 12 exhausted, With the mark of the hand Red on 12s face.

9