Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 1332° 
Rose
if roots can wait,
beneath the earth,
for a rain they cannot live without.

and if the stars wait,
lingering in dusk,
just to see the moon once more.

then i,
full of burning ache,
can wait too.

I will wait for you.
he broke up with me
 473° 
Carlo C Gomez
~
Lipstick to void. She is a race against time. The beveled past a disruption in her lines of influence.

Travel is dangerous, and tonight it darkens the highway of blood vessels coursing through her extremities. She wants to be luminous and under the skin.

While Dorothy dreams of tornadoes in Kansas, she dreams of remote climbs in lesser Glasgow, of party drugs in Tokyo. How many lights does she see?

In her hair are sixty circuits. But she waits, religiously inclined on the hotel bed. She drove through ghosts to get here wearing nothing but Las Vegas.

So strange at this hour, in a city full of sleepwalkers for the taking, she now dreams she's a bulldozer, she now dreams she's alone in an empty field.

~
 416° 
hannah
if all the creatures in the world
blinked at once
would i still exist?
 306° 
Robin Edwards
Suddenly we see
At the corners of our eyes
The cost of our love
 246° 
PhantomSavage
I
Dont
Understand
Life
I
Dont
Understand
Myself
I
Don't
Understand
Anything
I
Don'­t
Understand
Please
Help
Me
Understand
How
To
Survive
The
Calm
Af­ter
The
Storm
After
So
Long
Living
In
The
Hurricane
 242° 
Adnan Hasan
Some departures we choose,
and some departures are forced upon us—
They arrive with the weight of mountains,
practiced in hesitant steps,
as if dragging the entire world behind us.
We move forward a little... then glance back a little,
for behind us lie things, dreams, souls,
to which our hearts remain tethered.
 224° 
Juniper
My heart is on a plate
Starting at me
My brain has a desire
A disease that makes
Life hard life not life
Thing or people make
The pain go away
But it always comes back
The pain when you cry
The tears falling on your pillow
The fear of what your family
Or friends are going to say or
What they will do
The doctor will listen
The doctor will help
But it’s the pain that always
Come back
Therapy does not always help
 190° 
neth jones
dismember                          
the jamming fight of my breath
your reciting
the wit that exudes you
i hack mad laughs                      
the room becomes rude hot
              and we burst our fleshes
the seasons collect   in some deafening syrup
but still the walls are music with vermin
mushroom tea       you and me
[notes : inspired by Remember  by Joyce Mansour]
 175° 
Poetato
Some parts of your journey
Are only temporary
And maybe, this is one of them.

It teaches you a lesson
About losing, accepting
And at last, letting go.

It might feel heavy and dark
Yet that's where the light begins to seep in,
Slowly bringing you back home
To yourself.
Well, such is life. Imperfect, yet ours.
 157° 
Selma
I know love is real
Because you never confused me.
You wanted all of me,
And I have been
Bathing in devotion since.
 145° 
Chameleon
I could hear the
cracking and breaking,
the sound of metal ringing,
and then a thud.
I watched as the last piece of
self respect I had
got hauled off as I typed
the words,
“can you please consider me?”

This has to be like the
millionth time I have asked
A man that I’m dating if
he could treat me with the same respect
I give them.
And the answer is always no,
well in his case,
he won’t answer at all.
 142° 
Kai
"Respect your elders!"
"Respect your elders!"
"Respect your elders!"
"Respect your elders!"
"Respect your elders!"
"Respect your elders!"
How about respect my boundaries
Respect your place
Mind your business
Stop cyber stalking me, Ryan
Before I figure out where you are and smack you in the face
NO???? IM NOT GOING TO RESPECT MY ELDERS IF THEY DONT RESPECT ME AND THATS FINAL.
 136° 
minx
keep it sweet
but i just really wanna
grind on your thigh
while your hand
softly strokes my side

i wanna be yours
but we have different interpretations
you wanna be my daddy
but i want you
to be my daddy

i can't help it
you can't help it
you're so excited
kissing my neck
snaking your hands tight around my waist

daddy, daddy, daddy
the endearment is so twisted in my mind
you won't ever be my daddy
but you'll always be my daddy
i'm so, so innocent, but am i really ?
whoops...
 134° 
Nitin Pandey
✦The Elsewhere Draft

It isn’t death.
Not in the way they told stories of it.
There are no tunnels, no lights,
no ledger of sins.

There is only this—
an unfinished page
floating between versions
of a world that never quite agreed on him.

He exists now
in the folds between edits,
in the italics no one remembers writing.

The clocks here don’t tick.
They hesitate.
The air tastes of typewriter ribbon,
dusty and old and waiting.

He’s tried to rewrite himself.
He’s left messages—
on paper, in dreams, in the weight of silence.
But stories are stubborn.
They follow the first draft
like it’s law.

And yet—
someone heard him.

A fingertip
brushed his absence
and read it like Braille.

She.

She is not like the others.
She feels the narrative bending,
even as the others stay inside the safe plotlines.

He watches.
Or rather—he is watched
by the idea of her.
Somewhere in her world,
his journal still waits to be opened.

He doesn’t know what happens
if she turns the next page.

But if she doesn’t,
he may remain here forever:
a sentence misplaced,
a man lost
between revisions.
#thought
In Chapter Seven, move gently back to her—but now, she’s sensing it. That blurred edge between grief and unreality. The journal pulls at her, not just with memory, but with something alive. The chapter lets deepen her inner world while letting his presence stir in quiet, eerie ways.
“You are not a reader, you are the revision.”
 123° 
Anugraha
In the depths of my mind,
dishes pile high on the sink
stacking on the countertops
and leaking on to the floor
with dried crusty food
now too hard to scrub down.
And the laundry basket has overflown
The basket no longer in view
Now, just a mountain of clothes
And the table has never been cleared
The bedsheets never changed
The ceilings joined by cobwebs
And the bathroom floor all grimy.

A house is like a machine
Requiring frequent oiling
Frequent repairing
Like a newborn baby
It can't help but wail through the night

And I've tended to it like a slave
Day in and day out
All the while growing the clutter in my own.

I can't seem to help it
It refuses to forget
You laid the foundation and built it
Brick by brick
Where love resided once, has been suffocated
By clothes and dishes and dust and dirt,
And you ask me where the love went
It's there somewhere
Perhaps in the laundry basket
If I can find the bottom
Or in the drain  
Or on the bathroom floor

I just can't seem to find it.
 111° 
DENNY R ALLISON
A fellow poet said,
   I might
        be a bot!
I want to insure
    everyone,
     I'm most
       Assuredly not!
For I'm certain,my
   poetry would
     improve a lot!
 82° 
Eindeinne Moon
Trained to be insane—
or just desperate to be the same?
Either way, darling,
I don't spar with egos or chase small minds.

Never argue with a fool—
they’ll drag you down,
make your blood boil,
and call it a debate.

But oh, the peace—
when the toxic ones go silent.
Like the trash
took itself out.

Weak souls spread whispers.
Foolish ones believe them.
But your opinion?
That’s not my reality.

This is my life.
My rules.
My terms.
Not yours to rewrite.

I noticed everything.
Every shift, every slight.
But I stayed silent—
because the noise
after my quiet
said more than enough.
 81° 
Luna Saturne
We sit in the coffee shop—
laughter spilling loud,
hearts full,
like the beans brewed deep in our cups.

For a fleeting moment,
we set the world right,
and nothing exists
beyond us four
and this tiny corner
of time and space.
 80° 
EngrMakata
Like a bench beneath
the autumn leaves,
I stay where you left me
gathering time, not dust.
 78° 
Maria
Save me! I'm so afraid of falling off
All radars and locators of existence.

Save me! I'm so afraid of waking up
And making sense that I'm at far distance.

Save me! While it's no late at all,
While I can hear the pain inside and see the light.

Save me! While it's still possible.
While I'm here, cause tomorrow's my affright.
Thank you very much for reading this poem, my pain... 🙏💖
 73° 
Barb J Rose
And then i understand her
her anger, her jealousy
it's difficult to be pretty
while other woman prettier
it's hard to have attention
when other girl has enough of it
the men ask me about her
and i simply smile and answer
while i question myself
what she has that i don't have?
it's not jealousy i'm just confused
 65° 
Sherri Woodman
All the pressures of
perfection,                                                      ­                      
                                                                ­                                                
obstacles in all
directions,                                                      ­                                
                                                                 ­                                                      
  can wear down a practiced
smile,                                                           ­                                 
                               ­                                                                 ­                      
like chocking on acidic
bile                                                             ­                                 
                               ­                                                                 ­              
Cracked face on a porcelain
doll,                                                            ­                                            
                    ­                                                                 ­                                   
treat it like a surface
flaw                                                            ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                     
All the makeup and the facades                                                          ­    
                                                                ­                                                        
help to quell the stormy
squalls                                                          ­                                   
                                                                ­                                                    
So, she stays in the direction                                                        ­                  
                                                                ­                                              
of trying to perfect perfection
Sometimes people get caught up in physical beauty & never get to know the person underneath.
 64° 
lorelei
does time really
heal all wounds
or do we just
learn to
live with it?

how do I
learn to
live with it?
 64° 
Yu
Trapped in a cage, a prison of my own making
To set myself free, I must cut off your wings
But in the end, I lost everything
I'm sorry, for dying.
(17 May 2025)
 63° 
I S A A C
you make me gush like a wound
i am enough in your room
playing tunes, always smooth
i kiss your lies and your truths
i am tough enough to spoon
you remind me of rare jewels
smooth and sharp, hardened heart
i fold under the weight of rules
you make me gush like a wound
i need to touch you soon
my burning desires consuming this roof
 62° 
IsabellaVE
<3
I didn't know you existed
All my life I've been searching for you
Our eyes meeting
Hearts beating

From the first look I loved you
Our souls instantly intertwined
My hand caressing your cheek
Soft touches like how the water caresses the beach

I didn't know you existed
Until I finally found you
No I have not found love, but I hope it feels something like this
 61° 
Qualyxian Quest
Our immortality is for others
Not our clinging selves
When we die we become mothers
May we give birth to speaking shelves
Of books we've never written
Tales we never told
Young again in the young
As our former selves grow old
Presently I am a father
And I love my three young sons
But I muse on my maternity
And greet thee - my darling ones!
 61° 
Nobody
.
why do i always have to fall in love with the people who will never love me
im sorry i can't control it. i just want it to end
 55° 
Ayisha R
There’s a fine line
between wanting
and needing.

I don’t need you.

I just want you.

Could that be even worse?

✖️
_________

© Ayisha Rahman, 2025
 55° 
Austin Meehan
28
It's the way you speak
About having your heart broke
That breaks mine
Knowing I can't help
And I just have to wait
Till you realize
I'm the one
That will treat you right
 55° 
Jellyfish
I keep trying to learn more
I want to understand myself better
I'm alone at the end of the day
No one else will put in the same effort as me.
 55° 
Odd Odyssey Poet
The shape of your love’s image
Makes one imagine,

The many brushstrokes –

Painting out such a masterpiece
like you, Love.
 53° 
Ankush
Stand
Sit,
Slouch
Fall.

Stand
Fall
And
Sleep
All

Feel
Touch
&
Stand
Tall,

Skipped
Sit
To
Eat
All.

Breathe
Deep
To
Watch
Walls

Stand
Climb
Stairs
Then,

Sit
Sleep
Feel
Stare
Skyfalls.

So
Just,
Stand
Sit
Eat
Sleep-
and fall.
 53° 
Bekah Halle
Nothing is constant;
Neither my sense of satisfaction --
or loathing?

Does that bring comfort?
A yearning? Distraction;
from and liberation!

If Shakespeare were here now, what would be his wisdom
In the times of 'Trending' like fashion;
Would 'star-crossed lovers' be a clickbait sensation?
I really did ponder this, sat on it for hours, put it on the shelf, dusted it off and had another rewrite.
In the winter of
My darkest sadness
A candle glows,
Tiny and so far away.
It gives the darkness
A focal point and I
Struggle my way towards it.

Another candle lights my way.
I don’t know where it came from
But it makes a fearful journey
So much easier to manage,
And I eventually will dance
On thistledown to
The music of the Skylarks
In a sun-filled, cloudless sky.
  ljm
Working to chase the blues away.
 51° 
Austin Morrison
I wake to a sky painted gray,
Another day carved from the endless stone,
Dragging my shadow through time’s heavy hands,
While the question festers: where do I belong?
The mirror offers no map,
Only the hollow stare of someone aging too fast,
Late twenties—a milestone to nowhere,
Just a rung in the ladder I never asked to climb.
The world outside is a roaring machine,
Grinding hope into sparks that vanish in the dark.
Corruption drips from the seams of the streets,
And I can’t decide if I’m angry,
Or just too tired to care.
I keep moving, though,
Lost in the rhythm of meaningless tasks.
My purpose feels like a phantom,
Always one step ahead,
Always laughing as I stumble behind.
Happiness? It’s a language I don’t speak.
It’s a dream I don’t dare to dream,
Not when the weight of my flaws
Makes me wonder if anyone could
Love me for who I am,
And not the mask I wear to survive is starting to crack.
The chaos grows louder each year,
Like a wildfire feasting on the brittle bones of society.
And yet, I think—I hope—I can find a quiet place,
A haven amidst the ruin,
Where the world’s collapse doesn’t matter.
I don’t need salvation,
Just a corner of warmth,
A voice that says, Stay awhile, I'm with you.
A home, not built of bricks,
But of arms that hold me when the ash falls.
And so I wander,
Through this maze of broken dreams and empty days,
Waiting for a break in the storm,
For a hand to guide me,
For the fire to rage and the world to end,
While I finally find the peace
Of wondering home.
 51° 
Arna
Giving fake smiles...
Hiding pain infront of family...
Confusion of what to share and what to hide...
Fear of perspective changes...
Fed up with sympathy around...
Being unloved...
One side efforts...
Losing loved ones ...
Getting stranger vibes from close ones...
Taking blame without fault...
Lack of clarity in life...
Handling panics on your own...
Bad?
Probably the worst!!
The silent struggles people go through — especially the pain that hides behind a smile and the burden of emotional isolation.
"If you relate, know you're not alone."
 50° 
kevin
Emergency room investigation
Profit
Analysis
Report
I d.
Tag
And price

Question
Admissable evidence
Of ownership
Rights?

To water for free and a sandwich
And a blanket the go
 50° 
Francie Lynch
Beat it
Into resignation.
Flog it
Into degeneration.
Disparage it
Into decomposition.
or
Leave it
To wither all alone.
These are some choices.
There are others.
Embrace it
To become integral.
Surround it
To become enclosed.
Adopt it
To be your mantle.
and then
You wither alone.
I am trying to walk this way
north, towards the northern star
but i do not care to arrive at the northern star
I simply look for what is in that direction
Next page