Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
-
swollen eyes
keeps shedding tears
flowing down the cheeks
holding back feelings

swollen throat
unspoken words
feel so suffocated
yet, we pretend to be unbothered
set it on fire
the way i feel
burst into flames
so i dont feel anymore
set me on fire
i want to feel
something other than this
blisters and charred skin
this is what i want
 Sep 2021 Slightly Lovely
Nat
Is never the end, vastness
Cerebral expanses,
Horizons, hikes, labyrinths
Within labyrinths within

Every book that ever could be written
Every ever that could ever be
Files, folders, sections
Subsections in subsections within

The human brain cannot catalog
The universal sum
The tally is never totaled
The end is never the end
 Sep 2021 Slightly Lovely
Grey
I pushed her as far away as I could.
If dig on my skin
deep enough,
will it reveal a shallow grave?
Shallow —
but deep enough
for my wasting bones —
deep enough
for rotting flowers,
deep enough
for me to rest?
 Apr 2021 Slightly Lovely
ell
I want to feel the breaking of my own skin. the resist of the blade on my upper thigh.
god, I am worthless.
the only thing that makes me feel as good as you do is the trickle of blood down my legs.
how quirky.
I can't even describe myself.
I am becoming my father. addiction will always be a top priority.

"I promise, I promise"
and to think, I would never break one.

I am everything I am trying to run away from.
 Apr 2021 Slightly Lovely
Cece
i cry at any song that’s
even remotely
“pretty in a sad way,”
as my roommate says.
i cry whenever anyone
raises their voice around me,
it doesn’t even have to be
at me.
i cry when people
cry around me,
even when it’s not my problem,
or worse, when it is.
i break,
break down at minor inconveniences,
but who’s to call me fragile
except myself?
(because if anyone else did,
i'd probably cry)
 Apr 2021 Slightly Lovely
Yggy
I stand still, getting buried, under pressure, by the sands of time, I am covered, remembered, unseen.

You are up there, getting scattered, over mountains, by the hands of life, you are stripped, made bare, cleaned.

It is my remains you pump to the surface, it is my dead fire that gives yours light.

It is your straining to make villains out of victims, your commitment to love crimes that keeps me reaching through the night.
Next page