Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Apr 2014 Nomad
Jane EB Smith
I don't know if I’m good enough.

Oh, I can string the words
like silvery, satin, wild-caught pearls
along a silken line...
I can foment strong, heavy words
like boots that march in ****** mud
or hot, shivering sand.
I can sling words like silent razors
slicing swift and clean.
But every day...
every day when the word count rises
when writing’s the thing and not the play,
when words must stick together in factory formation
to add up, to bring forth, to produce...
maybe I’m not good enough for that.
considering MFA
 Apr 2014 Nomad
Escalus
If you ever at any moment begin to doubt any aspect of yourself, just take a moment to walk deep into any forest nearby. Look around and notice how the trees still stand tall even though they are given no recognition what so ever. Walk along side any stream, no matter what the side, The water still flows, though no one stops to praise it. Lay out and watch the stars late at night; they shine often without any acknowledgment. Humans can be  just the same. We are made out of many of the same same chemicals which make up these creations around us.  Never forget that you are beautiful and never forget your self worth.
 Apr 2014 Nomad
Marly
.
 Apr 2014 Nomad
Marly
.
Don't look into my soul;
I didn't give you permission to.
you're no good

A drop of tear fell on his food

earn your meal or go to hell*

in his mouth froze the morsel

the swallowed burned in his pit
wished he could *****

then pouring they came
raindrops of shame
flooding the part eaten meal
crushing his will
ever to live again
in hunger's pain.
a scene from many years ago recounted
 Apr 2014 Nomad
Triiniity
It's hard to think of those eyes
covered by tears when you cry
It's hard to imagine these stories
of losing a loved piece of family

Big country brown or emerald green, you walk into a room with a smile shining. So happy, and you deserve to be. I can't imagine what would happen if you would show how you're feeling. Your family has a missing piece. It can never be filled and for that I'm sorry, but I'll be your shoulder to cry on when you need.

No matter what it's about. I've known you all my life and I'd love to help you now.

Who do these boys think they are? They're just little kids playing with bigger cars. I don't know what it is about girls with jocks. It's like they go after jerks, and are surprised that all they want is for you to jump on their.. Well... I know you aren't like them, but your track record with boys shows that they're bad boys. But look, it's not your fault. You trusted them and they used it to gain control of your walls. Once they were in they broke your heart. Then they open and close them like floodgates. When they leave, they leave them stronger. Now it's a little to late for you to trust anyone any longer.

The woman you "love" should be on a pedestal. She should be treated like a princess; Celestial. I haven't read your story, and that's true. But if you gave me the book to read, I would love to. Don't let my words sound offensive, when in fact they're meant to be candy. Sweater than a glass of green tea. Just like your personality.

I know the feeling of numbness. But a blade to the wrist or the waste is waste of paint when you could bleed red on a canvas. Now you don't have to a painter. My canvas is empty white notepad with paper. I know you can get through this depression, if not now then later. It's okay to fall down and see the grass on the other side be greener. Please don't quit now when your fall is just a fumble. You can recover. It's okay to feel like you're drowning in a little brown puddle. Even if you feel like you're further under. You just need a little help, that's all. Not some pills just a nice person to say, "Hello." Well, here's my hand, and I'll turn your sad blue to a nice bright yellow. Don't you see it? I've just wrote you a rainbow in one verse. Your canvas can be anything or anyone. Show your emotions while you're young. You can draw pictures, you can write songs. You can make music, or play it loud until dawn. Punk all day and country all night is what I do. You can join me if you want, but no matter what I support you.

I care about you, I truly do. Please don't let my fowl language, my bad humor and words distract you. So get your hair all soft and frizzy, be your own style. And I'll be here for you, with or without that wonderful smile.
This isn't a love poem. This is for someone I care about and just yeah. This poems message is that you can talk to me no matter what. I've been your friend forever and I'd love to be a better friend for you. I've always wanted to, but I could never find the words. I guess this might suffice.
 Apr 2014 Nomad
Cherri Cola
..-. --- .-.    - .... .     --- -. . ...     .-- .... ---     .- .-. .     .-.. --- ... -     .- -. -..     --. --- -. .

.-. .- -.. .. ---     ... .. .-.. . -. -.-. .

-... . -.-. .- ..- ... .     -.-- --- ..-     -.-. .- -.     -. . ...- . .-.     .- -. ... .-- . .-.     -... .- -.-. -.-

-... . -.-. .- ..- ... .      -.-- --- ..-     .- .-. .     --. --- -. .

.-- .     .-- .. .-.. .-..     -... .     ... .. .-.. . -. -     .-- .. - ....     -.-- --- ..-
For the day of silence I'm observing today. Let's make some noise tomorrow.
 Apr 2014 Nomad
Marly
Dreaming keeps you from seeing what's right there in front of you.
 Apr 2014 Nomad
LS
Punishment
 Apr 2014 Nomad
LS
I have found a way
To hurt myself
Without making
One slice of skin
With a pretty razor.
Instead I say no to
Lunch and breakfast.
The pain in my stomach
Is almost comforting now.
I go home
Have a snack
And eat a small dinner
And I love that hunger
That physical want towards life
It sobers me a little,
Makes me lose a little,
Makes me seem real.
But nowadays
Nothing seems as real as
My growling stomach.
 Apr 2014 Nomad
AW Davis
On the day I first met you
we were both staring in the void.
The better angels in my head
made their services employed.
But the inner demons of my heart
began to chime in too.
They were louder than the better parts of me
and so I fell for you.

We stood there in that open field
gazing at the sky above.
We noticed that our stars were crossed
but arrogance clouded our love.
We thought that we could take on fate
and so we built our walls up,
made of cigarettes and broken hearts,
false security installed by us.

We saw the tide come rolling in,
and we both knew that we weren't safe
on that precipice that was our love,
suspended high above the waves.
And when the tide came crashing down
we thought that we were strong enough
to face the waves, hand in hand,
but our locked hands became two empty cuffs.
Next page