what does it mean to 'continue'?

beat beat beat
my heart is a drum
it goes up and down
my skin starts to hum

beat beat beat
my heart is too fast
I miss the future
I cant wait for the past

beat beat beat
my head is on the floor
I'm bleeding out
behind the art room door

beat beat beat
my heart in my ears
I cant breathe
drowning in tears

beat beat beat
it hurts to speak
my head is swimming
its reached its peak

beat beat beat
back at home
laying in bed
I wish it was gone

beat beat beat
3 in the morning
I can hardly sleep
everyone is snoring

beat
beat
beat

...


I wish it would stop beating.

You have no worries yet, they've only just begun.
I know you're scared, worried, anxious.
But I promise you'll be fine.
Yes its bad as they say
High schoolers do ****.
But they have to grow up one day.
Keep your chin up.
Don't be shy.
Stand tall, take pride.
Do an after school activity
Join a club, go to games
Make friends you'll spend life with.
Trust me, it pays.
Don't pretend to be something you aren't
Never stop learning
Do your work, but don't let it consume you.
Ask. For. Help.
They want you to pass.
I'm proud of you.
Don't do drugs, or alcohol.
Seniors don't want to be friends with you, and avoid dating people older than you in highschool.
Don't have ***. Trust me.
Study hard but don't over work.
You may have been cool, but no one likes someone that's rude and cool people are only cool in highschool. Better to be nice.
Money isn't a problem for now, get that job junior year.
Take advantage of extra credit.
Have fun with your first year.
Drama isn't cool or cute, stay out of it.
Don't bother with lockers, just keep a book bag.
Take notes.
Stay away from fights.
You won't be stuck forever.
People will make fun of you because your younger, but ignore them. They were young once too.
Write future you letters, they'll be cringe and funny to laugh at later :)
Most importantly, your grades do matter, but so does your mental health.
Its OK to take breaks and ask for help.
Stay safe freshies.

a doe wandered into the clear path of the starry forest. three shots had rung out.
a buck lay flat on the clovers and tall grass.
a fawn beside him pawing the ground.
three frogs hopping in the trees.
down down down.
the doe lay beside the fawn as it denied the inevitable, inescapable truth.
he was gone.
she was here.
and the frogs sang a sappy tune.
"ohhh cry out sweet sorrow, the dragonflies skitter away! the cats are out and the mice are at play. whistle sour melodies and harmonious truth, the deer have crossed over, behind stayed their youth."
the young doe shooed away the silly frogs before the hunters heard.
poor fawn.
no mama in sight.

You can tell from the cuts on my thighs
And the lows and the highs
From the stars on my walls
And how I forget to answer calls

That I'm not supposed to be
There they go again
Pretending they are me

You can tell from the stutter in my voice
And the pills I am taking
That I should be taking more
And I am consistently shaking

That I'm not going to try
Here I go again
Pretending to cry

I met you in the summer, a few days into school
You liked that I liked Minecraft
I thought that you looked so cool
Just a year younger, but you talk like an old gay man
We both wanted to leave this town, fast and far as we can.

I was the sun, you the moon
didn't think it could happen so soon
fastest best friends, just like when we were small
I was surprised you wanted to be friends at all

you said I was a sponge, that was the funniest thing
I took all of your bad, and it didn't sting.
I hope you know, it was the same for me
if I was trapped in my head you set me free.

it's our 3rd year as friends
but now our first as more
I really hope I don't become a bore.

thank you puppy, for being so kind.
I'm sorry you're stuck with my poets mind.

cerul wasnt an average child.
they were smart
kind
charming
elegant
sweet

at least thats what adults told them.
cerul didnt lack much
save for... inspiration. cerul wasnt one to be inspired easily.
cerul looked at all the other colorful children and then looked down upon their dark grey hands.
they felt ugly.
one fateful day, crimson happened to walk up to cerul and they sat together. crimsor took down her flowing, bright red hair and put her tie into ceruls hair. a flow of red went through their pale hair.
crimson smiled and left.

cerul was jealous.
to them it came easy.
they never lost color.
or inspiration.
they didnt lack talent.
colorful children were always favoured.
they would never have a home.

cerul talked to all kinds of people.
sage
aqua
prussian
even prune and azure.

none of them had advice.

cerul sat against the floor one day and cried. for many hours they cried.
they cried until the grey smudged into black.
until the red rushed from their hair.
until they were numb again.

cerul waited for something; anything to happen.
and nothing ever did.

We are starlight, bright yellow and holly berries.
Winter, skating, and snow angels.
We are sunflowers, dark chocolate and raspberries.
Police TV shows and Ao3 novels
We are Forrests and babbling brooks
Long winding walks and hair never put up
We are the scent of chrysanthemums and fresh linen, old books and sun
We are daisies and figure skating
Homemade cookies and warm baths
We are water colour and raccoons, collages, song writing and pretty rocks.
We are wooden beads, belt chains and flowery skirts.
Eyeliner and curls, cuts and burns
We are all that we can be.

a girl
oddity
out of time
wrong place
no reason
no rhyme
wasting space
a rich commodity
unfurl

2nd year a sophmore turning 16
cant wait for the day that I can leave
happy birthday too you, finally free
whose going to dead and gone at 13
dead and gone at 13.

wondering what I'm gonna do
stuck down here without you
I don't want to live alone
its so quite now you're gone
I'm so tired calling your phone
to no answer and a voicemail clone

I'm sorry

cards slip up the sleeves
the red reflecting only for a moment
the soft glowing of pale white
and the deep crimson marring it.
pull a trick
and only the people who know themselves
how the trick is pulled
will ever know you did it again.

Hurting people is easy.

like throwing a *Rock

into a still pond

the glass *-breaks-

r i p p l e s

and
                             down

              sinks
                                  the
                 *Rock*


but...

youll never know.

                                             how deep it went.

Hello poets,

My name is sunny, and I'd very much like to propose to all of you:

A Challenge.

It is quite a simple one really, I want to see just how many are willing to help me.

Recently I've found out of a group of poets that are using AI to create their "art" for them.
I won't give names unless it continues to worsen. They know whom they are.

We cannot stand for this.

AI is not art, its thievery, its not creative, its lazy, it is awful.

Poets, true poets, their words come from heart and soul, their voices are powerful. It disgusts me that AI is taking away the magic that drew me to poetry in the first place.

That's why I ask of you, true poets, to create. I challenge you to make a poem that damns AI even farther, using the #AISucks .

I encourage any and all of you whom see a poem in the challenge to repost, heart, and spread the word.

And if you see any other "poets" using AI, please report them. That isn't creating, its borderline stealing.

Thank you all, and I wish you the best of luck.

when the people come
to steal your hope
bare your teeth
don't give up

when the people come
they take your things
sink in your teeth
make it sting

when they come
to take you away
put up a fight
sink your teeth in
don't let them leave
without knowing
who
you
really
are.

Blood runs thicker than water
Blood runs thicker than water
Blood runs thicker than water

Yet both are the same if you earn her trust.

I am still her daughter
I still love my father
The truth couldn't be farther

And I'll still be here when the fences rust.

My love is thicker than water
My love is stronger than blood
My love could never be stronger

I am the last handprint you'll see in the dust.

You've ruined the color blue for me,
I'm surrounded by your lies.
You made me smile but honestly,
You ruined the color blue for me.

You took your dagger and stabbed it through,
jabbing it into my heart.
Tearing my
Itty
Bitty
Girl
Brain
Apart.

You infested my dreams,
ruled in my night terrors,
stole my peace of mind.

I can't believe there was a time I thought that you were kind.

YOU TOOK AWAY MY SANITY,
Ate away at my skin.
I itch and scratch and rip out chunks,
yet you keep filtering in.

You ruined the color blue for me,
I see it everywhere.
Your eyes,
Your fists,
Your bruised and strangled lips.

The blue is always there.

Not saying I don't like you.
Your skin, your hair, your eyes...
I'd just love to see your blood,
to taste your sweet demise.

I love your pretty teeth,
shiny, sharp, and red.
But oh they'd be so much sweeter,
tasting them while you were dead.

Darling, little Moon Beam...
shining so wonderfully 'Blue'.
Let me see your Bones.
Let me finally taste you.

I am drowning in the bubbles that my father introduced me to.
sipping on things I never should have known about
at such a young age

I am genuinely scared about my very existence.
I am so, so exhausted.

I drink until my eyes blur and the world spins.
Then when I wake up
I am still tired.

bubbles.

what a funny concept...

tiny little spheres

floating

in the sips of drinks I should not have.

Hey everyone (aka the like 5 ppl who matter to me on this app)

I'm taking a hiatus from life for a bit.

I'm being admitted (partially by choice) to a psychiatric ward.

Do not worry about me, I will be ok.

I just need a little extra help after everything that has happened.

I'll post something when I can come back

Be safe.

Stay gold, 🌙

Yours truely,

Liam, (Host of the Blue Bottle System)

I went into your party
Didn't think anything of your snacks
I ate anything you gave me
But then it came to the cakes

Your chocolate cupcakes were delicious
"To die for"
Devine

I guess my body took it literally.

I choked
You started laughing
"Was it funny?"

I am crying
Throwing up
Scratching til my skin bleeds

You think I'm being dramatic

Can't you see??
Your cupcakes are killing me.

When I am finally able to find my mom I have no time

And my vision is blank

I don't remember the last time I ate a cupcake.
I always throw them up now.

stop wallowing in your sorrow
no one is garunteed tomorrow

I wanna hear you say it
Don't want to need to rephrase

You love to feel this way
So you scream, could it be?

You give it all away
Admission free, could it be?

I can hear but I cannot see

Crybaby

I want you to write it down
It's not you, it's me, why I keep coming around

I can hear but I cannot see

Crybaby

Abdicated, celibate
More than had enough of it

I can hear but I cannot see
Crybaby.

i want to cut again
make pretty little lines
i want to take the razor
and make it my demise

i want to cut again
watch the red pour
i want to cut my legs
behind a closed door

see, i used ro cut daily
before my friends found out
i made another promise
"what was that about?"

my parents used to yell at me
my friends used to try
the worst reaction that i got
was seeing Moonbeam cry

i want to cut again
now that moon is gone
i want to hurt again
its really been too long.

healed scars litter my trashed body. my skin a mural, a testament, to my battles. i used to do it to punish. now i do it to feel something, anything.

oh to continue to cut
deeper and deeper
until i am no longer human.
but bones.

humans are no more than their secrets.
cutting into them reveals how disgusting or beautiful they truly are

i am a horrible person

You and I
The pouring sky
The street light glow
Our voices grow
The pavement hurts
But we couldn't care less
Ask for a sign from god
We are blessed
We sang songs I didn't know
Your words how they would flow
We danced and played
Our faces sprayed
Singing
Dancing
Playing in the rain

i know its not healthy to dwell on the pain
to dull my knives
just numbing my brain

we know its unhealthy to push people away
to isolate
then beg to be saved.

broken ship
on the sea of wide eyes
broken glass
taken lives

"taken from us far too early"
oh if only they knew
jumping on the cut trampoline
the poet finally flew

its unhealthy to write poems
of only sadness and regret
the awful sad truth is?

you have seen nothing yet.

Dear dad,

when you left, it broke mommy.
you hurt her
an then as soon as she tried to get better you tried to take me away
you hurt me deeply too you know
not only me
not only her
you hurt nana, poi.
you hurt us all
as soon as i was "old enough" i was used
and you defended your brother
because of course you did.
you chose him over me
i hate you.

i dont really.
i dont.
i love you
because im supposed to.

Love,
Holly.

dear mom,

when i was born to a 16 year old, do you think it was my plan to hurt you? to ruin you? i made your life hell, i know. but this was out of my control.
mommy i love you
mommy look im reading
look how smart i am
look how good i am
look how nice i am
look how kind i am
see how tired i am
see how lonely i am
how alone
how sickly
mommy why wont you answer me
have i done something wrong?
i did everything for you.
no matter how hard i tried it was never enough.
when daddy came back to get me
you fought
you genuinely loved me
and i never wanted to see him
i loved you
daddy had left
hurt me
hurt you
but as soon as you won
didnt you cry?
wish i had been taken?
i remember that night you prayed to god for me to go away
how i was hurting you
you were my age when you had me
nearly an adult
adult enough to go to that party
to go find your man friend
to lie and say you coud drink
but what happened?
daddy forgot he hated condoms.
forgot he didnt like consent
yet it was my faut after
im sorry mommy
im sorry i wasnt good enough.
fast forward me 2019
taking it out on my grades and never happy
put on a mask for the parents and bottle up my sorrow study and work til i see the light of tomorrow
suddenly im 13
hardly 3 days clean
picking up scraps and taking pills i cant seem
to pronounce the names of
my grades are slipping
my life crumbling
im turning fifteen in 3 weeks
its like you dont even know me.
like you kept having kids to fil the void
stopl hurting me
i didnt deserve it
i was always good
i did everything to make you happy

love,
Holly

red is for love, its filled with hate
orange is anxiety, an unoptimistic trait
yellow is decaying, rotting quickly
green is selfish and sickly
blue is not only sad, but melancholy
purple is the deep bruising, form your unfortunate folly
white is the cabinet, stained red with hate
brown is the decay that yellow can make
black and blue is her face from his selfishness
purple she turned, when she lost to the sickness.

There was a man not so very long ago, working as a mail man,
he hated his job,
hated his life,
barely able to survive.

He went home every night,
not a child or wife in sight,
spent his money on cable ****,
nothing in the cabinets but kernels of popcorn.

The end of his day was his pride and joy,
he had loved writing since he was a boy,
wrote books no one wanted to read,
publishers looking only for money and greed.

No one took chances, so he continued in his strife,
one day committing to taking his life.

An inbox message pings red,
he was surprised he wasn't dead,
a publisher willing,
to take a chance,
a simple offer,
a forever dance.

He said “I have one of two choices—stay in the post office and go crazy…or stay out here and play writer and starve. I have decided to starve.”

He wrote and wrote and worked to finish life as somebody,
finishing out his life on a high,

Yet the note on his gravestone reads

"Don't Try."
Why?

i think about you all the time
you always manage to cross my mind
in the dark
at school
with my mom
with bee
i see you everywhere
i am always reminded
you did not love me
you didnt really get to know me
and i know you will never see this
i know you wouldnt care
you thinking of me every now and then
is not reward
but entirely painful.

No. Worse than that.
She loved you in every single one, just not ours.
She cared for me once in all my life when it benefitted her.
And cast you out when it was convenient to save you.
She loved us in all but one.
And we got the shortest straw...

The world doesnt care that you exist
hide your pain and slit your wrists
cover the scars and let them bleed
black out at school filled with greed
get home cut deeper and dont let them see you cry
so pathetic
you dont get it
dont look me in my eyes

hurt yourself
your hurting others
but do you even care
stupid little sunshine
if i hurt you its only fair.

35$
They made me pay
To watch you die
And leave today
Mom made me an out patient,
24 hours
My happiness, joy, quickly sours
To put you to sleep
Told me not to weep
Euthanasia (<25 lbs)
Your limp paw
The last thing I saw
As you were swept away
Your weak kitty smile
My throat filled with bile
As you were taken today
Euthanasia (<25 lbs)

lace and distaste
affection and addiction
obsession and possession
the pain without gain
the rotting of the brain

the parents pride and prune and preen
you've finally turned 15

lack of sleep
little to eat
just take more medication
if that doesnt help, review it on yelp
and theyll say you just lacked dedication.

the adults find you fit to be seen
"you're not actually 15?"

the brain shutting down
systems start to drown
you're  not  in  the  best scene

welcome one
welcome all

another fool turning fifteen.

-Ajs

i cant breathe, i cant think
i cant skate, because the rink
its too warm
melting ice
my one solace
my one vice
i cant freeze
freeze my brain
lose myself in the music
get lost in the pain
the sting of the cold
my movements bold
i cant sing
i cant swing
move my body
i cant move
i cant think

fourteen*

Woe is the child
That turns 14
When life was already lived
Before he was keen.

Woe is the soul whom
When asked why he cries
He shuts down
Shuts up
And rolls his eyes.

Woe is the boy
Turning 14
Scared to lose himself
Nowhere to be seen.

I see you.
I hear you.
I love you too.
But I'm afraid to lose you
Far too soon.

Yours, Vivere.

Go
Go on
Going
Gone
Give
Giving
Give up
Gone
Grow
Growing
Grow up
Gone

Every time I see your eyes
I die a little bit inside
When it was time to say goodbye
I played in bed and began to cry.

I sit on the cold tile
outside my class
people walking by
cold digging into my ***

the squeak and buzz of basket ball boys
girls laughing around the corner.
I work on my project
my poems
my life

and somehow it doesn't get any warmer.

Hello hello all you under the moon
Its a time to celebrate, its finally June!
I've been released from the hospital, and my friend is home soon
Welcome ladies, enbys, and gentleman to the wonderful month of June!
From Pride month to birthdays we get to fill balloons, we get to start summer off and the sun wakes us at noon, the weathers warm enough to show off scars I haven't in a while, but I can't bring myself to do anything but smile.
I cannot go to pride parades, I'm grounded for summer time
But moonbeam still messages me and I smile, they know I'm doing fine.
Happy June to all!

The burgundy lighting
Is oh so exciting
I'm lush and inviting
For all to see
My body is moving
The dance Im resuming
Cigarette smoke is pluming
Look at me

I dance for hours
Until early hours
For higher powers
Whom pay for me

To leech off my fleet and to preach on deciet to forgive or forget I don't know

The threat is consuming
You hate me? Well sue me
I don't give a **** about what you please
If you were halfway decent
I'd let you get even
In light of the recent events

But I'm just a body
Meat to be discarded
I am not your Bunny
And I am not Holly

in my native language, this is my name.

it means "Cannibal Woman"

it is well deserved

I am chickasaw.

we talked about everything
and nothing at all
be it in bed
or a bathroom stall

going to sleep
staying awake
we did more
than we thought we could take

m
o
o
n

and i


he liked my poems
and i adored his
words from the heart
sealed with a kiss.

i miss his poems
the sun and the moon
our sunlets

he likes my poems
and i like him.

his words tangled into his heart, pulling and strangling his blood.
the ink would spew through his eyes, and when he got his hands on paper,
haunting tales of sweet creatures and punishment from devinity.
his stories meant more then anything they taught us to learn.
his words were the things that he left behind.

I don't think you know
Just how much
I wish you would look at me
How you look at them
How you looked at him.
I wait for your poems daily
Your notes of absolute gold
And I wish
On every 11:11
For you