Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Jul 2018 athro
ali
darling,
you wear your depression
as a mask of undeniable normality-
don't say you're messed up.
it carves wells beneath your eyes,
streaks your face with a natural glow,
weighs down your heart
so you don't fly away to the stars...
away from us-
don't tell me it steals your beauty.
darling,
it keeps your pen going
during those early mornings
after all the caffeine
has run out
and your mind can no longer battle
the long, black fingers of sleep
grasping for you-
don't write any more society-approved lies.
it leaves art on your skin,
whether it be permanent
or with assorted colors of paint,
that tell stories,
your stories,
without words.
no longer hide the battles you've fought-
don't let others scorn your victories.

darling,
you are a masterpiece,
you are perfection.
don't let this depression
own you,
but become more than it.
please share with whoever you think needs to hear this, stay strong my fellow poets, without you we lose not only a unique perspective, but a unique, beautiful person<3
 Jan 2017 athro
alasia
Unfinished
 Jan 2017 athro
alasia
How long will it take her to understand that your blood is laced with loneliness?
That the smoke staining her tongue cannot subdue the angry taste of your mouth?
That the hands that hold her neck want to strangle the air encased under skin
and no song
or word
or feeling
can dilute you.
why did I wish you cared enough to **** the life out of me?
Why I wasn't enough to ****.
You play with my insecurities like kittens,
laughing at how they can't jump high enough
teasing with what's just out of reach,
I was a mouse weaving through the holes
I thought
I had gnawed in you
but your hands stopped me in my place:
put me in my place.
I am nothing but a comfort when the weight of the world
lands on your chest,
I'm your oxygen mask
as the plane starts to crash
and you swore up and down you loved me
but years have made it clear you don't know what that means.
Your words are an empty void
I would gravitate towards them,
let myself get ****** in
you told me I'm different
that you didn't want to hurt me
though years of pain beg to differ.
I should have called you puppet master  
instead I called you dear
and I have realized I deserve better,
that I don't have any more years to give you,
but I still craved your attention
and your jealousy
as though I could teach you love and how to feel it right.
But at 16 I had you figured out;
you've only regressed since then.
and I should be used to people letting me down;
etching their names in my heart as a reminder
but you were supposed to be the cure.
The end to my self imposed suffering.
You bring no good to me,
trap me in the light of the child I used to be,
and your name haunted my lips like the last time you
kissed
me
but none of this would ease how I wanted you to hurt me.
Prove you cared with your actions.
Your words are white noise.
I need to focus on the swollen melody my heart is performing.
But how do I find closure,
To what will always feel
Business
 Jan 2017 athro
JRF
Tomorrow
 Jan 2017 athro
JRF
Tomorrow

Tomorrow will be a better day.
It's such a beautiful sentiment, really,
that I want to repeat it again and again in my mind.  
And I'll listen and hear it anyways-
even when things go crooked-even when my light gets diffracted and when everything goes upside-down.
Tomorrow will be a better day.
I know it.
I believe it.
Tomorrow
will be
a better day.
 Jan 2017 athro
leah
i searched for depth in the shallow end
of the pool, in a place where depth did not
exist, and yet i somehow managed to drown.
this is an excerpt from a spoken word poem i wrote a few days ago. send feedback if you'd please !
Next page