how does one live
knowing there is nothing they can say
to scare away pain
their words are weak and brittle
yet they say them all the same
How to become a poet:
Let someone rip your soul apart.
And in the need of mending ,
You will replace it with words.
i miss you
how do i function with you gone?
you never once have left my side
tell me where you hide
please come back to me
i can't deal with this new feeling
it's yellow and bright and energized
it's tiresome, stupid and ruining my life
come back my little gloom
when your depression goes and comes. when you're recovering you feel lost without it since it's the only feeling you've really known. but it always comes back eventually.
graveyards are not for grief
they are for thought
you are the one my heart is tethered to.
not a lover, nor a friend, but my guardian angel.
a spark in the coldest of nights.
my laugh on the darkest of days.
my non-romantic soulmate in every which way.
you don’t cower at my scars.
nor cry when it gets dark.
you never forget to remind me that life is all but sparse.
“so write me a song”
you say it so proud.
fly angel, fly. soar through the sky.
i hope when we meet again, both our suns will shine.
sending my inky love and darkest of hearts.
for my wonderful little angel who saved me from the dark.
so this poem is about my teacher. him and i have a really nice connection (completely platonic and in no way ****** might i add) and we talk about a lot of stuff and i've come to view him as sort of an emotional support animal haha. but in all seriousness, he has really become my guardian angel and i have no clue how ive lived without him in my life for such a long time. he literally bought me a coffee the other day, like he's such a nice guy man. this is basically a teacher appreciation poem. i literally cannot imagine what my life would look like without him. he was the one that noticed i was depressed and is the sole reason i ended up getting some help for it. he's just a funny, good-natured and lovely man who has become like a second father to me and i have plenty of room in my heart for him. one day i will tell him so.
clawing at my wrist is my very best friend
she has a skeleton of metal
nails as sharp as pins
she makes others feel pity when my body is on display
yet she gives me advice when I’m in immense pain
although she's a backstabber
she gives me comfort in the head
yes i know she is toxic
but she's my only good friend
so this was something i decided to write on the very heavy topic of self-harm and cutting. I don't want to promote it as i know it is a bad, bad habit but as someone that very much does self-harm and is constantly trying to stop, I thought id write out my feelings about it.
a fire-breathing dragon
walking quietly out of her cave
a hiss in the wind
it lights the smallest of flames
flames tend to grow
quicker than the sun melts snow
our dragon now roars
a stab of pain in her side
she retreats to her cave
her emotions ready to blow
my soulmate is my dragon, my mount, my friend.
she is the embodiment of me.