Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Welcome to the Suicide Forest
Where the butterflies flutter low
Weak with dull dark colors
And fall with broken wings

Where the trees are dead and dying
And the leaves are dull and falling


Have you seen the Suicide Forest?
Where the night is heavy and dark
And the sunlight rarely shines

Where blue fairies stumble flightless
With tear-stained cheeks
And bloodstained wrists


Run, run, run away
Quick, before you're trapped
Cause once the forest has you
You're never going back

Look into my eyes                                
You'll see they're empty; black
Look close at my wrists                        
You'll see they're stained blood red
Look into my soul                                  
You'll see it's gone; deserted

The suicide forest caught me
Now I'm forever trapped
I was considering entering a poetry contest. Idk though because I'm not really a poet. What do you guys think?
All I'm asking for is a chance,
A chance to prove my worth,
A chance to earn a place upon
This site to share my work

I'll show you my inner feelings,
Share insight to my soul
Relate, digest, connect the dots...
Through others work I'll scroll

Please accept me to your website
With arms that open wide
We'll laugh, we'll cry, we'll scream out loud;
Then smile, with you on side.



© Karen L Hamilton, 2015
This was the poem I submitted when requesting an invite from  'HelloPoetry'

Hence, I am a new member... hello :)
It's been 2 years
Thinking about it now,  I can hardly believe it was real
I was drowning inside with pain: while on the outside I was drowning in tears.
My emotions were eating me alive... all i knew was I no longer wanted to feel.
After another family argument I rushed up stairs to the bedrooms
quickly I grabbed the first orange bottle of pills I could find in my aunts room.
Hiding beside my bed with my sister in the room unaware
Desperate for death I force all the pills down my throat.
Once the deed is done , my aunt calls us down to talk
during her lecture, I start to wobble
she asks if I took something but I insist I didn't and that I was just tired.
After a while she realizes what I have done..
though unlike most she found it funny and recorded it on her phone
Finally once I stop responding to things she calls the police...
only one officer showed up
realizing the situation wasn't a joke he gets back-up and medics
I am rushed to the local hospital.. then moved to a more advanced one
As the  doctors and nurses try to save me
I continuously rip out my IV's refusing to live

They are able to put me down.
I wake up 3 days later with dry blood on me and cry because all I wanted was to die .. and I failed.
Our love has faded like the seasons
and yet....
It cuts deep to think of the reasons.

They are in the very corners of my brain
and like a caged animal..
I retrace steps again and again.

If spring and summer were the very best
then what....
Do fall and winter represent, the test?

But is love like a winter tree instead
.......
The branches are bare, but it isn't dead?
tangled in my bed, you’re holding the bits of my smile that i didn’t even know fell out.
there, in the the gravities of messy sheets and intimate eye contact,
we come upon the part of the story when it reaches a climatic point of dizzying anticipation,
the type of expectation
that whispers sweetly on my skin as if it had the plot of our collision written on it.
here is the precipice of something scary; my tentative hands outstretched—
a coincidental incident; your hands reaching back,
folding me into your body.
everything is the same: the sun still came up to light our faces and
this little town hasn’t changed.
but everything is different, oh god.
the day i sat down in a mostly empty hallway
was the day that i realized i am the worst of unintentional catalysts.
the blush of borrowed luck stains my knuckles and i clench my fists in hopes that it will stay
before i let a safe house like you shelter a storm like me.
i’m so afraid of breaking you.
i’m afraid of my own vulnerabilities.
i’m afraid of letting people into the places where there’s still some wholeness to me. i know—i’m a walking contradiction.
touch and go,
stay and leave,
everything seems to fold.
what is that saying.
“the best laid plans of mice and men, often go awry”?
  never had a plan when it came to things like us but please understand
there are certain fragilities i can’t fathom in me and that i’m afraid of my destruction as i am of my own creations.

      but for now, this is the first chapter in our book.
this is the first day I wake up.
this is where we start.
In these streets gather grime and slime,
And an ideological undercurrent
That is by no means benign.
Indeed, this culture is rapacious:
Exploit, take, exploit, consume,
Endlessly, ever endlessly,
With no regards for when it all runs out.

This cancerous mindset
Is now mainstream.
It is default.
It is not only allowed,
But rewarded.
Selfishness and sociopathy
Are synonymous with success.
You are what you own,
And nothing else.
Your little words and little drawings,
With their little meanings
Mean little to anyone.
Pack up the books, the pencils, the paints,
Stow them in the attic,
And instead,
Slave away at something you merely tolerate.
That, my friends, is the American way.

By: Forrest Jorgensen ©
"You fell in love with my flowers
But not with my roots
So when autumn arrived
You didn't know what to do"

-Unknown
I didn't -
fall out of love
I tumbled, backward;
overly-tired
chocking on Z's
and poetry:
my, indecent way of
overexposing my
love for you
and
no one likes to be embarrassed
but
I'd rather be that than
without you
so I tortured myself
I strangle my own neck
over and over again
with palms that
want nothing to do with me;
I'd rather
fall asleep
under water
than
breathe this way
*anymore
>|< Julie Butler
Next page