Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Dec 2014 rj
Lunar Luvnotes
What becomes of the broken-hearted?
I guess it matters who they are.
An artist? Masterpieces.
An existentialist? Epiphanies.
A physicist? Reality.
From my notebook last month. Like Jimmy Ruffin mused in his ballad, What Becomes of the Broken Hearted, I played it repeatedly as a child. His cathartic paradise moved me.
 Dec 2014 rj
Francie Lynch
I remember when
Cutters
Only left tracks
In the snow.
 Dec 2014 rj
Kristen
Butterflies
 Dec 2014 rj
Kristen
I find it ironic how
I'm able to create extravagant
Sentences that leave others speechless.
But when you're around
I'm the one that's at a loss for words.

     -*KM
 Nov 2014 rj
Patrice Diaz
dead line
 Nov 2014 rj
Patrice Diaz
I stuck it down my throat
I wanted to feel good about myself
But I didn't
I just felt worse

I thought that resulting to these things..
I thought it would work
But it didn't
It just made me feel worse

everything makes me feel worse

i don't know what to do

help

help

he---
i am apathy
here i am writing for nobody to read
talking to no one to listen
speaking for nobody to hear

i am pathetic
there's nobody willing to pay attention
i wonder why i have yet to reach the hollows of depression
or am i already in beyond my realisation..?

i am sad
worthless 21 years
used and manipulated
never appreciated nor important

i am angry
all you stupid people
treat me like disposable
calling me despicable

i am self-centered
i don't want to care about you
i'll start caring for me
it'll be just me, mine and myself
from now on.....
                               ...it'll be a lonely world but i'm still surviving...
i am..nothing..wish i was thin air..
 Sep 2014 rj
Jackeline Chacon
At morning I begin to feel
At night I begin to think
My heart starts to drown
My life starts to sink

I get images in my head
Confusion I cannot define
Jealousy ruining my life
Wanting you all mine

At morning I begin to think
At night I begin to feel
Are you really mine?
Is this fake or is this real?

I just don't understand
Why you could love me
A girl so deeply insecure
In a world of  jealousy
 Sep 2014 rj
kenzo
jealousy
 Sep 2014 rj
kenzo
i'm jealous of the last cigarette you smoked
that it got to soothe your pain
that it got to make itself at home in your lungs
because i couldn't soothe your pain even if i tried
and i can never leave finger prints on your skin again
i can never feel you again
and i'm jealous of the bed sheets you hung yourself with
they got to feel your warmth
because they got to cease your pain
and even if i tried i couldn't do that either
and your gone
and you're never coming back to say your final goodbye
and that's when i knew the cigarette meant more to you than me.
jealousy
 Sep 2014 rj
gemnah maley bray
She didn’t want the feelings anymore.

She didn’t want the lingering sadness after a short high of happiness.
She didn’t want the questions eating her up at night.
She didn’t want the worry of what she was and what she wasn’t.
She didn’t want to wonder if she was doing things right or completely wrong.
She didn’t want to be the home to violent hate for herself
but the same home to a vibrant and gentle love for him.
She had to get it all out.
She needed to reach down and take all that was within and put it outside of her.
She needed to **** what was in her.
She needed to purge all of the bad that was disguised as good.
These pretty butterflies fluttering through her belly had to leave.
Her stomach and her throat and her heart were no longer their flying grounds.

First, a few fingers reached
but didn’t get the job done.
Then a forceful full hand with nails full of flesh and blood tried to make its way to the creepy little critters that made her stomach tickle with sadistic love
but to no avail.
Finally, a full hand and half a forearm tore through the esophagus and the stomach lining.
At last, she could get them all out.

She sat hung over the toilet with a satisfying pain
that a pretty devil told her was the only way to get the buggers out,
the feelings out.
Slumped over the toilet,
she noticed there was a sweet and sour twinge of numbness dressed up as happiness running through her mind.
Hundreds of dead, black, sad butterflies floated at the top of the toilet.
They were all out.

She didn’t have the feelings anymore.
 Sep 2014 rj
raw with love
i am
nebula
an explosion of stardust
i am
a supernova
fear me
i am
universes
galaxies
asteroids
i am
a little cosmos
within me
if you don't dare
reach
for the stars
stay away from me
i'll swallow you
like a black hole
i am made out of
dark matter
don't you even dare
come closer
if you're not ready
to explore
uncharted
territory
Next page