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 Jul 2018 Mila
Adaly DeLeon
insecure
 Jul 2018 Mila
Adaly DeLeon
i’m not enough
for myself
especially not anyone else
im out of love
it has fled me like white doves
i crave passion
i crave action
even while we’re laughing
there’s still something lacking
between me and you
i feel blue
i’m always in a bad mood
i want you to understand me
but i don’t even know what or who i can be
 Jul 2018 Mila
Andrew Durst
My death will be liberating.

And I do not say that in the sense
that I am going to find a cliff
and take a good jump off.

No.

I am just trying to find a
clever way to tell you

that I do not know what is going
to happen next.

You see,

there is a
fine line
between
dreaming and
mortality

and

I am finding out for myself
that being in love
does not always
involve

being awake.

And for my sake
I fall in love with daydreams,
nightmares,
hazy realities
and

the hung-over idea

of not being enough.

It is all out of my hands.
                 It is all out of time.

And the only thing I have left to do,
now,


is decide.
Thank you to anyone that reads this.
 Jul 2018 Mila
Fahad shah
A blink of words
That can't be said
Or even be written
She is poem of thousand words


She is fierce and gentle
All at once
She's a song
An unending song


She is a sparkle
She is a shine
She is the only thing
That i want to call mine

She is my everyday
And an everynight
She is every morning
And an every twilight


She is all i know
She is all i see
She is a sweet melody
She is an  unmatching rhythm
 Jul 2018 Mila
Angela Mae
Getting things tangled in my hair again like
chaos,
sunlight,
and the memory of your hands
You're the ache that rests in my mouth when
I fall short of beautiful words
You will remain familiar
yet a mystery to me like
the soft edges of sunrise like
the reason dead stars only shine in the dark
 Jul 2018 Mila
Shanijua
Who is this girl wearing my clothes? Who was this girl lying in my bed just a second ago? Surely she isn't the same girl who enjoys sneaking out to study the stars on a warm summer night, so what was she doing here? Who is this girl, walking in my ratty Vans?
Her eyes drooped from late nights of over thinking, making her age about ten years.
Look at her, she stood as if her legs would give out at any moment.  
Our eyes met for a fraction of a second before she looked away from embarrassment. She shouldn't be embarrassed.. She just needed a good nights rest and a nice meal for sure..  As I reached out to touch the ghostly girl, to let her know that everything was okay, my hands slid down the slick, cold glass that made up my dresser's mirror.
A morning routine.
 Jul 2018 Mila
Polar
He
 Jul 2018 Mila
Polar
He
He speaks the language of flowers
Quietly toiling in his garden
Digging, raking and smoothing soil,
Gently coaxing nature to match his vision.
He knows the bees, spiders, beetles, worms and earwigs
Regarding them as friends.
He follows seasons, moon and stars
As others do people
Enthralled at the changes they bring.
He listens as the birds sing
Watching with joy as
Fledgling take wing.
 Jun 2018 Mila
Micrography-Mike D

Inside
       of  
           my    
               head
            
                        Entombed  
                                 is  
                                      a   
                              
                         B   R   A   I   N

                                      Can’t
             ­                                shake
                                                      this    ­        
                                                        ­   feeling
                                                       ­    That  
                                                             ­it’s
                                                             ­not    
                                                      ­       the      
                                                            s­ame
                                                     Infected sickness
                                                Covered with dull pain
                                         A rabid                          werewolf
                         ­             I’m trying                             to tame
                                     Almost off                              the leash
                                    I tug at                                    the reigns
                                    Hold              on  ­       with       sheer will
                                    Have          nothing   ­    to                 gain
                                
                           ­        My                       efforts;                  A joke
                                   Fighting               a freight                   train
                                    Through              gr­it teeth             I smile
                                      Demeanor             ­                       I feign
                                          Failure          ­    coming            soon
                                      ­       My life,         one more        stain


                                             ­                    Lost
                                                          ­         sight
                                                                ­      of
                                                                ­      it
                                                                ­        all
                                                   ­               To
                                                              w­hat
                                                            ­ it
                                                 pertains
                                                      ­I
                                                    am
                                              sinking
                                                down
       ­                                            Spinning in
                                       the drain
                                                    An
                                               endless
                                              battle
           ­                             Forever
                                     the
                                bane
                           ­  Of
                      my
           existence

            No                   longer                    I’m                   sane………


Written: May 1, 2018 (finished June 27, 2018)

All rights reserved.
[Anapestic Pentameter format]
 Jun 2018 Mila
ali
gray
 Jun 2018 Mila
ali
i've run out of poetry,
and now all i'm left with
is gray.

gray surroundings,
gray people.
i'm lost in a world
that's lost in itself.

i can't find the words
to even say what i'm feeling,
because all i see is confusion
staring right back at me.

i'm in a room full of mirrors,
my own reflection
not appearing
because i've lost myself
in the depths of my thoughts.

someone,
please find me,
someone, anyone,
i'm gasping for air
that's not even there.

no one understands,
yet you're all here to listen.

there's only one problem.

i can't find the words-
i've run out of poetry.
my solution to having writer's block but also desperately needing to write at the same time
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