Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Jun 2016 Silencer
Leia R
so many words have begun to
fill my mind and writing them down
is the only thing i can seem to do
but i guess it's okay that they take up
so much space because i am
no longer thinking of you
                                               l.r.
my cat is so mindful of my mood and i think it is the sweetest thing
Sometimes
Life keeps moving when you're trying so hard to hold still.
Roll with the punches, make changes, do something to better yourself
Or *simply fade away.

There's more out there,
There's undiscovered emotions and ideas that could broaden your horizons wider than the most beautiful sunset that you may never even see because you were too set in your ways to go outside your comfortable little box and really SEE the world.

*The choice is yours.
 Jun 2016 Silencer
Zoë
i need to be able speak.
without the look,
without the judgement,
without the eye roll,
without the blank stare.
but i also need to be able to listen.
without the look,
without the judgement,
without the eye roll,
without the blank stare.
 Jun 2016 Silencer
Poetria
What if** your brain
was just a small packet of popcorn
that desperately needed
a microwave.

What if it refuses
to operate
until you show it some love-
Let it open itself up.

What if all it wanted was
to feel a little more lightweight-
'pop' away the pressure of being
confined to a head-cage.

What if our brains
Were just raw popcorn pieces
That needed some heating
To melt away the pain.
Popcorn before heating looks so suffocating- it's no wonder that when energy is provided they just blast open into pretty little flowers.
 Jun 2016 Silencer
Styles
Hurt
 Jun 2016 Silencer
Styles
Nothing hurts like a touch.
Nothing kills like the rush,
of falling in love,
with the pain, of being hurt,
by someone you know,
you shouldn't;
                          TRUST.
 Jun 2016 Silencer
David Lessard
I don't think that I can find you,
when you're wrapped up in your shell;
when you go inside yourself,
you're demeanor's hard to tell.

I can't sort what's right or wrong,
all I know is, there is trouble;
and I cannot penetrate,
the hardness of your bubble.

You still remain a mystery,
someone, I thought, I knew;
someone I thought I loved,
but now, I can't see through.

You've gone and lost your self again,
a transient to the world;
locked in a web of silence,
no longer seen, unfurled.

I don't think that I can reach you,
to the place where you have gone;
and you've faded in my thoughts,
like an old, forgotten song.
Next page