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 Oct 2017 Unknown
Melissa Rose
There are demons in your closet
It is obvious to me
You left the door wide open
Setting those ******* free

Anger lashed out first
With razor sharp claws
Shredding the unsuspecting
Without hesitation or pause

Beneath him is resentment
Forever locked up tight
Hidden within for years
Now more than ever, ready to fight

Betrayal weighs heavy
Taking up the most room
Can’t sweep it under the rug
There isn’t a big enough broom

Don’t disregard the guilt
Or forget about shame
These two big players
Are leaders of the game

Amidst the whirl wind of chaos
And the fury of rage
A broken heart exposed through fear
Makes its way to center stage

Vulnerability is waiting
She can keep your closet clean
Nourish you with love
Making those demons less mean

As the spotlight shifts its focus
There seems nowhere to hide
Will you crawl back into darkness?
Or simply swallow your pride?
10/10/17
 Aug 2017 Unknown
Hannah
Stoned
 Aug 2017 Unknown
Hannah
I'm drifting
through my dreams,
occasionally colliding
with a hint of certainty.
I'm higher than I seem,
fighting the concept
of reality as a means.
I'm lost in the sky.
I can't remember why,
but life is just easier
when I get a little high.
 Jul 2017 Unknown
ThePoet
I'm scared of the tears

that I don't cry

The days like this

that I don't die

I'm scared of the pain

that slips my mind

It comes back harder

than what I left behind

©
 Jul 2017 Unknown
Words by T
Ive written the note
I'm ready to take the pills
Only to be told that what I'm doing is
Selfish

Apparently it is selfish to commit suicide as you do not think of those
that you leave behind.
People clearly don't understand
The meaning behind suicide.

Yes you are leaving people behind
But it is not like you did not think of them
That is why I cried while writing the note
I cried while I thought of my mom at my funeral

To those that think suicide is selfish -
They should think of how selfish
it is to drive people into such a deep depression
That the only way to make it stop is to end their life

I'm not selfish
I'm selfless
As the world is a better place
Without me
Never fall in love with a poet
for their words are sometimes lies
on occasions they're a shield
on occasions a disguise

They will take you on a journey
upon which they bare their soul
in a bid to ease your burdens
in a bid to make you whole

But in every word they choose
for the stories that they tell
lies a little piece of heaven
and a little piece of hell

Tormented souls we poets are
sometimes quite broken and despaired
in search of lost expressions
missed by others who once cared

Never fall in love with a poet
unless you're prepared to share their pain
to hold them close on the darkest nights
over and again
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little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.
 Jul 2017 Unknown
Pablo Neruda
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
 Jul 2017 Unknown
bones
Just a cut,
Just a scratch.
It wouldn't hurt,
It wouldn't last;

It would fade,
Fade into blue;
The colour of sadness,
The colour of you.
Needed to get something off of my chest.
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