Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Grief as an interlude.
The in-between performance.
Where shoeless days, wandering forests—
meet
black-dressed, paired farewells.

Where velvet curtains close and draw,
a symphony has long prepared
(for you).

Percussion slices into silence.
Clarinets hum in minor tune.
The bass joins in—they’ve been appointed.

Welcome to Grief’s Interlude.

The music plays now just for you.
Regret takes center stage.

What wasn’t said.

“What could I do?”

The music begins to fade.
I guess it’s time we see the view
from our heart’s balcony.

Crossing legs and leaning in—
anticipating more…
A special place for all our kin
is bursting from our core.

Cymbals reach the back of room.
The flutes play loud and low.
The composer pulls a handkerchief—
tears and sweat compel this show.

You feel so sorry.
You feel alive.
You feel memories—sharp and sore.
They’re taking bows.
The act has closed.
Another’s passing through death’s door.

Welcome to Grief’s Interlude.
Grief doesn’t arrive as a finale—it slips in between the acts.
This poem imagines loss as a performance
 2h Traveler
T
I’m not sure
when I’ll be able
to look in the mirror again.
Whenever I see my reflection,
I want to shed my own skin.

I let someone touch me
who didn’t really care.
I tried to protect myself,
but there’s snakes everywhere.

They slide into your mind
and shower you with love,
wrap themselves around you,
then suffocate you with their hug.

They eat you alive
until nothing is left.
They were cold blooded all along,
they just move on to the next.
 2h Traveler
Nosy
To romanticize a life
That never was and never has
A life unlived but loved
Lies wrapped in fantasies

Suddenly walking the street
Softly, calmly, a normal speed
Why is it every time I dream,
I get interrupted by the sound

Of an interior not designed
An exterior not built for the light
A romantic life, but never mine.
Life gives and life takes,
Those that mean the most -
Burrowed deep within us,
Dwelling close to our hearts -
Clinging to our souls.

Some unexpected,
Some unforeseen -

For it is those losses,
Those weighted losses...
That hurt the most.

Leaving us with gaping holes,
In our chests -
Body aching...

Leaving us with only memories,
Pieces of them that continue on -
Replaying on loop.
Slight nudges to help us remember -

Remember they existed.
Remember they were real.

Those losses.

Those. Weighted. Losses.
Lost a dear friend and uncle a few weeks ago. He became a big brother type after my dad passed. It was sudden and unexpected. I love him and will miss him.
OCD
Obsession gripping
Compulsion dominating
Total confusion
My skull's about to blow up.
Never in this world
I would ever wish to stay
Dreams and not the days
I wish I could stay forever in my dreams and fantasies.
When I’m surrounded by darkness,
And the feeling of finding a single ray of light is my religion

When I’m lonely in my thoughts,
And a feeling of unseen energy lifts me is my religion.

When my eyes brim with tears,
And the feeling of crying in a safe lap is my religion.

And,
When I'm all alone the feeling of a divine presence protecting me is my religion.

SO WHAT'S YOUR RELIGION??
What do you all think your religion is don't you all feel god is protecting you everytime? Don't you all feel instead of having someone who's gonna leave you after sometime just become of god he's gonna be for us everytime everywhere even after death.. I don't know I just feel this way that i never wanna get married or date someone instead become a sanyasi it is similar to becoming a nun in Christianity in Hinduism it's Sanyasi.
I’m still surprised by what the people in my dreams do to me.
This is all in my head?
I do wonder.
Am I wandering around in a different world when I sleep?
Cause the people in my dream still surprise me.
Does that mean that I do not know my own head?
I think it’s more, I think I’m wandering.
And the people in my dreams are the people that I need.
And sometimes, many times, I don’t even recognize them.
And it’s just a little thing that’s making me feel like I’m at home.
Just a little feeling.
Just a little smell.
Just a little thing they do.
And it’s surprises me when I wake.
Cause I remember.
They did so much to me by doing so little.
It was so real.
They just feel real and they feel like I belong there.
They feel like I’m home.
19-07-25
Next page