Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Sep 2017 Poetria
anon
2:23 AM
 Sep 2017 Poetria
anon
I was reading
When I realized
From this book

We aren't
What we say
We are

We are so much more
Than numbers
Numbers on a scale
On a ruler
On a tape measure

More than numbers
On our clothing

But that's what
Everyone
Defines us by

They say we are percentages

We are only one
In seven billion

Why should anything
Go right

We have something
Every one in five gets

Why should we feel special

They say we are standards
Like clear skinned
Tan
Gorgeous

And brains don't matter
As long as we are
Clear skinned
Tan
And gorgeous

They say we are dollar signs

That those who are poor
Should not even
Glance their way

And those who are rich
Are
Always
Stuck up
And ******

That the brand
That costs less to make
But is mass produced
And more expensive
Is better
Than the cheap stuff we all wear

They say we are the change
This world needs

But they don't mean it

They mean
They want us to try
But they won't let us get near
The power

But that's not what we are

We aren't numbers

We aren't percentages

We aren't standards

We aren't dollar signs

We are stories
Passed down from people
Who knew
What they wanted us to know

Like the time
My grandma accidentally knocked
Her favorite and only doll
Into the hole in her outhouse

Or the time we all sang
As one
In a happy melody

We are memories
From times
And lifetimes
Past

We are stars and planets
Distant yet
Present
Bodies
So elusive
Thereby so intriguing

The only thing
We really want
Is to fly in stardust
And dance in a moonbeam

We are dreams
That maybe won't come true
But will give us the best adventure
When we find out
How to live them out

We are heartbeats
That beat at night

We are bugs
In this garden of life
Because without us
There would be no point

We are flowers
That tickle your nose
On a warm spring day
When you reach down
To smell its fragrance

We are shoulders
To cry on

We are roads
To walk on

We are smiles and laughs

We are childhoods

We are balloons and bubbles

We are winters

We are springs

We are summers

And we are falls

We are the heat
And we are the cold

We are the change
We want to see
In an upside down world
Only we can change

We are people on the corner
Begging for some coins

We are souls
Thirsting for reprieve

We are hearts
Trying to love as much as we can

We are sadness
And we are joy

There are things
We can see
And things we can't

But after everything
Every word
We speak

We are so much more
Than what they tell us
Day after day

We are the world
And this world
Is ours
So take it from someone
Who has been invisible her entire life
Until they berated the silence
Out of her

In words
That changed to sorrows

And hits
That turned
To beauty

Because she can be beautiful
In this
Crazy
Twisted
Yet absolutely stunning
Life
 Sep 2017 Poetria
ryn
Night Recluse
 Sep 2017 Poetria
ryn
.
crescent in the sky be my hammock

I watch with shut eyes
the twinkle trail of fairy lights

let my past be laid and lined in chalk

to usher the magic of following nights


.
 Sep 2017 Poetria
Zachary William
Is it really
any wonder that
our ancestors
looked at the
celestial sphere
they saw the seemingly
random array of stars
and instead of feeling
meaningless created
a narrative of
constellations
flinging
Orion
Taurus
and Ursa
at the temple walls
that make up our
night sky,
ever moving but
staying the same
 Sep 2017 Poetria
r
I don't know what
the limits are
what impacts fragment
beyond repair, outside the web
of what there are words for,
murderous facts that leave mute
witnesses’ souls brittle
inside their chests,
as the thousandth child starves
somewhere in our inhumane
universe another star grows dark.
https://apple.news/Aonwzvwb5RPqSRVKnmc2o7Q
 Sep 2017 Poetria
KD Miller
Untitled
 Sep 2017 Poetria
KD Miller
9/16/2017

i sat on the corner
and stared
until you woke up

in the car, later,
the sun dipping under
the trees

and painting the air
dark blue
i remembered the vermillion summer sun

frowned deeply, for some reason
i didn't say anything
you looked at me and smiled

i had to, too.
we sat by the woods
the car quiet and still

two hunters came out of the woods
and later, back out:
empty handed.

i looked over your side and over the seat:
saw your blue reflection, the moonlight sheer

and
objects seen in mirror
are closer than they appear
 Sep 2017 Poetria
mk
-
 Sep 2017 Poetria
mk
-
they say
if nothing works out
just go home

but i wonder
after all these years
will home remain
waiting for me?
new places scare me
 Sep 2017 Poetria
mk
but it wasn't just losing you

it was losing out on all the memories to-be
like your mother's fortieth birthday
your baby cousin's first day at school
your uncle's wedding *(i'd already picked out my clothes)


it meant missing you at my graduation
and you never seeing my little sister grow
never tasted the fresh morning brew my dad makes
or listening to my mom recite

losing you wasn't just losing you
it was losing everything around you
and in a way,
*it meant losing myself too.
so much pain, but the sun still shines.
 Sep 2017 Poetria
mk
the salesperson
pointed me towards
the petite section
told me
'oh the women's section
isn't for you'


made me realize
how much
i've shrunk

don't get me
wrong
i'm still 5'2 (& a half)
still weigh
somewhere near 120
but
i have bent and burnt
into
the corners

i have
shrunk

it's a slow process
you don't
even realize that it is
happening
until you find yourself
smaller than ever
and you
wonder
how could a personality
as big as mine
become
as small as this

perhaps it first began
when i
learnt to
stay quiet
when
i really
wanted to say
no
or
yes
or
maybe
or
i believe
or i don't think so

but instead

i looked down
kept
my lips
sealed
and my
eyes closed
blinking
only to
feel my eyelashes
against
my cheeks

i once
had a boy
tell me
he fell in love
first with my voice
then
with me

he tried to solve
me
like a puzzle
putting back the bits and pieces
to create something
whole
but in the process
the pieces got
jumbled up
into something new
and the
voice
i had
that captured
his soul
slipped
away

i started shrinking
when
i lost my voice
and now
i think i've lost
my heart too
my
passion doesn't
flow so
loudly in
my veins and
every now and then
it does
scream
but i silence it
be good,
little girl,
be silent


and to
the girls who
are walking on
glass made
of unwanted opinions
and voices
which are far louder than
theirs,
i say,
remember.

remember who you are
remember what
you are worth.
and remember
that not the father
nor the son
can take from you
the fire
that burns
brighter than the
sun above.
my daughter,
i say,
let your voice
be heard and
let your freedom
burn
and
if
there is a day

when a man
comes and tells you
that he
will replace
the vocal
chords into
something
softer
you
open your hands
offer him peace
and if he rejects
use your freedom
to send
him
far
far
away.
 Sep 2017 Poetria
Graff1980
Untitled
 Sep 2017 Poetria
Graff1980
Life is like your feet. You can go around wearing shoes all day to protect yourself from rocks, glass or other things that might  hurt you, or you can go barefooted and feel the soft moist earth beneath your feet, enjoy the cold hard concrete.  Think of this as a metaphor for your heart. If you are constantly gaurding against the pain of life you miss out on alot of of the good stuff.
Next page