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 Feb 2019 kiran goswami
Diana
You.
Are.
A.
Walking.
Masterpiece.
 Feb 2019 kiran goswami
Meghan
hello,
have you been
well?
i guess not,
for your attention
in my poem
could tell
sorry if this nurse
took so long
in finding
the perfect words
to cure
your soul
first,
strip your clothes
and
stand at the mirror
gaze at the
creature with
the foggy figure
there's
a sinkhole
in those eyes
and a temporary
stitch whenever
you would
smile
the collarbone
which hides,
suffocates from the
blanket of skin
with
sickening lies
it penetrated
and
corrupted your mind
ignored the
fact and just
romanticized
the beast
will **** you,
please
don't find
it ****
the chaos is screaming
later on
you'll be
empty
i know how
a reflection
cries
you lost yourself
you lost you
it's like
having a stray cat
beneath your
tissues
a wandering stranger
sails from
the memories
of truth
overflowing blood
choaked
your dilemmas
too
it mimicked the
fire of hell
in those
shoes
the greatest harm
you'll ever
cause you
but why a
nurse
and not a
doctor?
listen here,
you are your
fighter
the cure and the pain,
which decision
will define?
all i can
say is,
save yourself
from death,
because
it hasn't
deseved you yet
go ahead
and fight your
way to life
I suffered from these issues. And I don't have to wait to heal completely so i could serve my people.
 Feb 2019 kiran goswami
Lunar
looking into
your eyes,
i wouldn't think
of getting lost
in them.

instead,
your eyes
are a getaway
where i find myself.
to lj, your eyes are second home; a place i'd forever be a tourist in.

(j.m.)
Every piece of you
Fits in every piece of me
In a perfect way
 Feb 2019 kiran goswami
Wanderer
Artists are often
broken people
using the fragments of themselves
to create something new
and although
being healed
feels so complete
sometimes i want to be broken again
sometimes i want open wounds
so i can use the blood
to paint sunsets
so i can use the torn off pieces of skin as a canvas
so i can carve
masterpieces with the jagged bones left behind
but I can't bring myself to break my own heart in the name of Art
 Feb 2019 kiran goswami
Ally Ann
A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
I wanted to say,
lock yourself in a room,
scream until you have
a poem and no voice.
Open your veins and bleed
until you know that your bones
are pure words and sorrow.
Act as if you slit your own throat
and all you can bleed
are your own regrets
and all of the darkness
you boxed up for inspiration.
Write your mom a letter,
tell her you're leaving
and you won't be back for awhile
Because being a writer is traveling
through all seven layers of Hell
and denying anything is wrong.
Forget loving yourself
when all you have is a pen and paper
fused to your wrist
and Jesus is tapping at your skull
saying turn back now.
Warn the neighbors that if they smell burning
It's just your soul
clawing at the front door trying to get in.
Learn how to be alone.
Learn how to lose everything you have
in order to feel release,
learn how to only feel deceased
from now on.
A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
All I said was
don't
 Feb 2019 kiran goswami
brinn
want
 Feb 2019 kiran goswami
brinn
when he kissed me
the other night
the only thing i could think
was how much more
i wanted to be kissing you
 Feb 2019 kiran goswami
Ashari Ty

Skies are beautiful
They have clouds
But they still cry

Why wouldn't you?

You are beautiful
You have poems
You can cry too
Because crying is honesty to your emotions, and honesty is beautiful ;)
 Feb 2019 kiran goswami
tayarose
NO!
Please stop, I said NO!
I will wonder, why me?
Why didn't you stop, I said NO!
Doesn't my voice have power?
Why put your yes in my no?
You ask why not?
I have no reason to explain myself,
NO means NO, Stop, I don't want to,
I'm not sure, maybe next time.
That all means NO!
My voice does have power, my body is mine
You have no decision on how I dress, or what i wear
I am me, and NO you can't touch me.
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