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Jun 5 · 36
I shudder sometimes.
Emma Jun 5
Thoughs whirl.
They writhe and rest,
float and sink,
shout and whisper,
coalesce
and
dissolve.

The constant and deafening cacophony of thought,
deep and wide and long,
stretches to the horizon and beyond,
Seemingly endless.

I shudder at the thought of thought sometimes,
memories meeting ideas,
but I'm deafened by the constant white noise
of its gently frothing waves.

It's beyond me, as they should be.

This ocean is serene
and the parts indiscernible from the whole.
I can sit at the shore safely if I dont wade in.
I may simply view
whatever might float to the surface.

They lap at the edges of my consciousness,
Tingle against the anterior of my skull,
But,
Thankfully,
Remain incomprehensible in their awful entirety.

It is only when my ocean
of memories and ideas organize that I need be afraid,
for I can comprehend a patern.

It is only when the gentle lapping becomes a treacherous bombora,
crashing against white cliffs,
That I am struck with their crippling ripples of anxiety,
because I begin to understand their enormity.

When
thoughts
writhe,
float,
shout
and coalesce,
They slam into me,
Eroding my delicate posture.

I am
unzipped,
unbuttoned,
unlaced,
in ribbons strewn across the bed.

I become undone,
at my own mercy.

Another one makes it's way yo the surface.
Perhaps this will be a calming memory?
No,
it's my own
               grasping
                          hand.

I grab my ankles as I flee
the oncoming tide,
and drag myself into the depths.

I sink,
clutching myself,
struggling
to escape myself.

I can feel myself begin to weaken and descend,
my cries muffled and my flesh diffusing in my own malefactory clutches as I gnaw at my spine visciously.

I pity me as I mercilessly tear into myself at my own digression.
Battering myself into submission
and eating away at my delicate chassis;

I leave a pitiful puddle to sink into my sheets.
Yes I do mean digression, not discretion.
Emma Jun 5
Every time I open my eyes

You break my trust

Again.

I have a hard enough time

Convincing myself

It's worth getting up in the morning

Without your quite betrayals.

Even when you are good

I can never know.

I'm so overwhelmed with anxiety

And you've taken advantage of me

So many times

It doesn't make a difference.

I find myself wondering

If I will ever trust you again.

But I know

Of course I will.

I always do.

That doesn't mean I should.
.  
.
   .
Did you betray me this morning?

The answer at this point is

You may as well have

And you will

Every morning

Hereafter.
May 2 · 47
Circuitous in Nature
Emma May 2
Laying in bed, staring at the ceiling,
Memories coalesce and slip away.
A rhythm forms,
A beat,
By which ideas organize themselves.
Circituous in nature,
Thoughts orbit in the mind,
Circling tighter and tighter,
Constricting,
Until,
Apr 22 · 93
Worthy of Admonishment
Emma Apr 22
This violent duality
Is physically docile
Yet
There is blood
On the screen
On the sheets
Obscuring vision

Who
Did this?

You're drenched in crimson
It drips
In sickly strands
From the tips
Of guilty fingers

You plead innocence
And choke on it

Cornered
Seeking the path of least resistance
An admission is made
And
Brackish streams
Adjure forgiveness

Cornered
Seeking the path of least resistance
An exception is made
And
These hands
Are red too
Apr 22 · 106
Coffee
Emma Apr 22
Burning pillows
Stifling sheets
Imprisoned here
I lie
Mind percolating
Past events
Shame and doubt
Bubble
To the surface
Shifting and turning
But there are
No sheep
To count
Apr 21 · 173
Shatter
Emma Apr 21
S                                        breath

     H                   grip

           A                     breathe!
slip
                  T                          waver
­   Drop                         hide
                         T                bend
P O U N D                  twist              shiver
             Fall   ­           E              writhe
 spin               spin               spin      need
            trapped               R             Cut
sequel
Apr 18 · 501
Interpretation
Emma Apr 18
C              

          R

L                    E

I     N                        A

V                                          T             H    
                                                           ­ 
I          M           A            G            E

N                       W          O          R           D

G
Made this on my phone, so if you're viewing it on a computer and it looks like nothing, its because the formatting is hecked.

A deconstructionist poem about some ideas I have. If you'd like to know what I intended it to mean, then I'd be happy to explain, but there's really no wrong interpretation.
Apr 10 · 297
Anxious Proceedure
Emma Apr 10
I hate him
              I hate him!
            I LOVE HIM SO MUCH
I want to kick him in the head

     Kick
kick
     Kick
Kick him
     HARD

PUNCH him

Make     love

Break his     phone
Break his heart
   Kiss him

Hug him
Hold     him
Love         him

My chest burns
My  eyes   sting

                                           hide

               SCREAM
   Pull hair
Weep

   Sob

  Kiss

Turn over        .       .       .         forget
                                  .
                       .
            .
it         LINGERS

it pokes
It prods
I twist and turn

What do I do?      I search
Of course.
            Hes niche.
this is                 WRONG
It's not                      FAIR
What do I do with this?
                                           What do I do?
          I love him!
           I HATE him
     Am I a fool?
Should I go now? Cut ties and

losses
again

AGAIN

Forgive
let live
           CrumpleKILL END DIE
SleepNeverwake!Neversleep
I dont WANT THIS                  do i

I need him

What

.
Hello! This is my first poem. Hopefully I will be writing more soon. Thank you for any and all feedback you can provide :3

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