Will you help me carry my sadness
and throw it away in a deep well?

Will you visit me in a dream and help
me face my heart-wrenching dreams?

Will you wish me goodnight
before you leave me tonight?

Will you handle this foreign heart of mine,
or are you going to abandon it for another refuge?

All I ask is, will I ever be
welcome in your heart, again?

You know I love you
But you don’t know what that means

You know I care
But you don’t know what that means

You know you make me happy
But you don’t know what else you do to me

Welcome to society,
We hope you enjoy your stay,
And please feel free to be yourself,
As long as it's in the right way,
Make sure you love your body,
Not too much or we'll tear you down,
We'll bully you for smiling,
And then wonder why you frown,
We'll tell you that you're worthless,
That you shouldn't make a sound,
And then cry with all the others,
As you're buried in the ground,
You can fall in love with anyone,
As long as it's who we choose,
And we'll let you have your opinions,
But please shape them to our views,
Welcome to society,
We promise that we won't deceive,
And one more rule now that you're here,
There's no way you can leave.

By
Erin Hanson

They say practice makes perfect.
And you’ve always been smart,
but you’ve got hating yourself,
right down to an art,
it’s now just a step in your morning routine,
To glance in the mirror,
And not like what you’ve seen,
The voice in your head lies,
But it won’t let you know,
You gave up on ignoring it,
A long time ago,
Flowers in a vase,
Keep your guard by your bed,
Yet you still see their beauty,
Though their petals are dead,
If they were a person,
they’d hate themselves too,
But they would always be loved,
By someone like you,
Although your petals are wilted,
And you think no ones knows,
You’re only counting your thorns,
While the world sees your rose.
~e.h.

What if grass is greener on the other side,
Because it’s always raining there,
Where the ones who never fail to give,
Hardly have enough to spare,
Where the people with the broadest smiles,
Have pillows filled with tears,
And the bravest ones you’ve ever known,
Are crippled by their fears,
It’s filled with lonely people,
But they’re never seen alone,
Where those that lack real shelter,
Make you feel the most at home,
Maybe their grass looks greener,
Because they’ve painted on its hue,
Just remember from the other side,
Your grass looks greener too.
~e.h.

She was named after love,
and letters were exchanged
between lovers in her name

Poets found their muse
when she visited their hearts
and I was one of them

But my love never
reached her heart
like hers did mine

And so she left,
when my stubborn heart was
aching to be laced with hers

She left,
and my eyes were searching,
yearning for her

Dear Heyam,
I swear on love letters
and you
For it is the last poem
I write about you

⚠Trigger Warning; the following poem contains subject matter pertaining to self-harm ⚠
~

"These violent delights have violent ends."
~William Shakespeare

~

When the crevices
on my wrists
solder themselves together
and the rich, crimson stanzas
become illegible,
I unsheathe my quill--

melancholy's scribe.

The ink clots,
driblets of red
bleeding through these pages

but I keep writing

until
this parchment lies
sweetly torn

and

I smile.

Now,
that's what I call

poetry.

**
How violently delightful.