Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Quiet
Drifting along
Unheard
Singing its song

Why does it stay to the shadows?
Why come be in the light?
People fear it’s hollows
Creeping in the pale moon night

People don’t understand it
Or they don’t even try
People reprimand it
But never bother ask why

It’s tried before
To be heard, be seen
But time has failed it
Like a flag on the shore
Old
Tattered
Unclean

The witching hour strikes
Once again it cries
Tears like acid
Burning rain from the skies

It’s mind so abandoned
Like the darkest part of the woods
Only it knows what happened there
Or does it?
It would tell you if it could

It can speak
Voice lost to time
Silence at it’s peak
Using the wind as its rhyme

The wind carries stories
As the years howl by
Stories of time
Where this ghost didn’t cry

This ghost was human once
A child happy as can be
But that was only once
Now it’s trapped in the trees

It’s searched for hours
Now it’s been years
Never finding a way out
Never in the clear

It’s trapped in this forest
The forest of the mind
I know this story well
For this ghost is none other than mine

Past “love” like a charade
My needs weren’t high to make
Every move we made
Pushed me down into the lake

A lake of late night tears
Water made of liquid fears
Fears that you’ll leave
Just like you did before
This time worse than you’ll believe
Cleaning up my heart like a chore

Taking solace in a friend
Only to be left again
My best companion, now yours
Forgotten by both
Left alone once more

Food never satisfies it
Like a monster in my body
It hates eating
But it’s always hungry

“Just eat”
I can’t
“Stop being ungrateful”
I’m not
It hurts
It wants something
What is it
What will make it stop
“Human.”
It tells me
No.
I won’t.
A sharp pain shoots through me
“Eat.”

It’s hungry
I love you means you’re never getting rid of me
But that song’s Already been sung
Our story is fresh
A new melody to play under the sun
At night when I dream
a drift under the moon
You and I are too good to seem
Too good too soon
We are fragile
To the strands of fate
The ones that bind us
Unstable in state
Our distance that separates us
One of hundred of miles
the doubts around us
Start to compile
We will never bend
To those horrid thoughts
For if we did
Our hearts be distraught
The setting sun paints colors on the clouds
Night is coming
The birds’ sweet chirps calm with other sounds
Night is coming
The moon rises with the days end
Night is coming
Dreams arrive with music’s soft ascend
Night is here
Every days a happy day
don’t feel good ‘til I lie
Never feel good, I might do cry
Weeping acid until I die

Why do I feel this way
Never good in any way
Never enough for myself
Put my feelings on the shelf

writing this with a smile
But sad inside all-the-while
You’re standing
Protector over me
I’m staying
Smiling happily

I try to stay strong
Try to be brave
But I can’t be strong
I just feel so fake

I fear myself
I fear my mind
I fear everything you’ll find

No I don’t hurt myself
At least not anymore
When in the mirror
I don’t see myself
I’m not me anymore

I don’t like worrying people
That you know and see
So I don’t open up to people
They don’t know the real me

They see a mask
A mastered charade
I feel like a actor
This is my trade

theres no chorus
no melody
Is this what the world had planned for me?
  
This isn’t the end of me.
My very first poem
A zombie
That’s what I feel
A zombie
Nothing here is real
Gone
Those are my thoughts
Gone
Those are my senses
When will I be free
From this torturous reign
The ruling demons
In my brain
Feel
Feel what I do
See
See what I have
Live
Live how I do
Hear
Hear what I can
You can’t
Can you?
You never will
I am me
As haunted as I am
I am me
Not you.
Did you hear that?
The anger of a heart
Ignored and made jest
Picked and take apart
Thumping painfully in their chest

A laughing stock
Forgotten in the family
Overlooked
Unseen
Unheard

Silenced
Misplacement
Is that what this is?
I feel separated
Scattered
Like I don’t belong

Mother says I’m dramatic
Of course I am, I’m a poet
But this is different
This is how I feel
Plain and blatant

A black sheep as they call it
“Threatened” with turning out like my uncle
Oh to be the bad example
The bar so low
The rotten one, as you’d come to know

A tear drops from my eye
A “temper tantrum” as they say
Told as I quietly cry
Trying to keep emotions at bay

Maybe I am the issue
The problem
The obstacle

Someone get the ward on the line
I should be admitted
Maybe I should do some time
Get my hospital scrubs fitted

Non-slip socks
Doors without locks
Always being watched
Mental health botched

I belong here in these padded walls
The guilt sears
The voices call

— The End —