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 88° 
Simoné
It took me seven years
to realise
the words in my mind
were too deep for
my mouth to dig up
I thought it was easier
to open my skin
and let the truth
pour down my arms

It took me seven years
to realise
nobody should be allowed
to touch parts
of your home
or hold pieces  
of your heart
that you don't yet understand

It took me seven years
to realise
I will wear these scars
forever
I'll carry them
through every smile
every kiss
every concerned gaze
I'll carry them
to my grave

It took me seven years
to realise
the pain carved
into the walls
of my castle
etchings of
attempting to disappear
are not a story of weakness
but a tale of
how I survived
Go ahead
hold me a little longer
than usual.
You say to me,
without using any
words at all,
"it should have been me,
its still me."
Like i don't already see
those sky blue eyes
every time i close my own.
Because we're still holding
on to *** knows what.
Because it is you
and it will always be you.
 50° 
Midnight
Your ***** body
Pressed on mine
We kissed

I thought that
I should feel
Something

Thrill, euphoria
****, love
Or bliss

But no
I felt
Nothing
And I'm very sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me.  You are everything I have ever wanted, but for some reason touching you leaves me blank.  I feel nothing.  And I am sorry.
 43° 
Angelica
The first time she looked up
She fell in love with the sky
Her heart reaching higher
The only answer was to fly

So she made wings of her heart
Carved dreams into feathers
Bid farewell to earth
And fluttered towards ether

But gravity loved her too
Had no intention to let go
Pulled her firmly to the ground
And broke her wings in woe
 39° 
Jude
I despise myself for not being someone you could love.
 34° 
Trey Remulla
i used to send you memes,
it's no longer a habit of my day.
i realized i haven't sent any in a while,
i miss our old ways.
 29° 
Nylee
not important
not me
not much
not enough
no one
none.
 17° 
Darcy
I am adept
In the art of being okay
I have mastered the craft
Of covering my troubles
I use all sorts of fancy facades
Acrylic, oil, watercolor
You name it.

I can paint over nearly anything

You will never know
How late I was up last night
Or why.

My eyes flicker
Like candlelight
But you couldn’t see
You couldn’t possibly see
I’m too good
For that.

I can dance, too
Waltzing away my sorrows
Carefully tip toe-ing the
Pas-de-I-am-fine
I get a standing ovation every time

I’m very talented, you see.

But my all time favorite
Is my disappearing act
I’m still perfecting it
Right now
But one of these days
I’ll show you
How I
Slip
Slip
Slip
Away

Right through your fingers.
 16° 
Druzzayne Rika
I'm all over the internet,
but you won't see me.
 15° 
Nylee
I don't feel that happy anymore
even when I should.
Does that mean, I'm actually not that sad
or these symptoms are really that bad.

I don't understand that much
in situation as good as such,
I smile to make it look I'm fine
and slowly I pine
to feel carefree.

Is it that I'm aware
this is happiness in just looks,
inside it is all hollow
nothing in mouth to swallow.

The way it use to be
nervous to lonely
the open door
only takes me to ****.

I'm familiar to this feeling
slowly growing on my skin
I keep chewing to the bitterness
which is coming to throw me off guard
because in the end it is how it will end.
Sometimes, I wish I hadn’t just been the backseat of your car,
Intoxicated. My first drunk hook up. My first. Period.
I picture myself being champagne on Valentine’s Day.
I picture myself being you, nervous in the car, holding Starbucks
because you know I love coffee. Sometimes, I picture myself as her,
calling you a stalker and ignoring your calls,
but then I see myself. I call you beautiful,
turn you into poetry, laugh at your bad jokes,
I see myself as I become your drunk Wednesday night
when you’re sad. I see myself as I say no,
I become a “this is not a good idea”
and you a “we’ll deal with the consequences in the morning.”
We laugh because this hurts too much.
You take her out for dinner and I burrow money
for Plan B because you forgot you don’t like condoms
and clearly have no idea how children are made.
I have already named him. He has your curls and
my anxiety. He is smart. Except, I never wanted kids and
you would be a great father. Instead, you tell her
the beach reminds you of her and I cry in a McDonald’s
bathroom with my friend as relief floods through me that
the test comes negative. I stop talking to you,
move forward, meet someone new and before long
see myself becoming you. Because isn’t that the cycle?
Bad men turn good women into bad women who turn
good men into bad men. I’ll set him free so he can hurt
someone like me, and I drink red wine as I read her
poems about him and me.
 14° 
devante moore
He’s no longer responding
It’s perplexing
Because no one knows why
Yesterday he was doing just fine
And in this room it’s frightening quite
Because everyone knows he’s about to die
His mother angrily yells at the doctor
While she stands over his bed
Why! Why!
My baby
This is my son
And he’s not going to die
Devante Devante
I can hear her repeating my name
But the sounds of the world has finally gone mute
And the lights of the room ceiling
Slowly
Fade to black
And if you crying over my shoulder right now
I’m sorry
I tried to fight it
But I just couldn’t fight my way back
I was to lost
Let myself be overcome with pain and misery
Unhappiness was my purgatory
But at what cost
My life
Yes my life
I gave it away
I’d do anything just to feel a little less
It’s why I injected myself
With an illegal amount
Of morphine
 14° 
Carter Ginter
Waking up to a heavy chest
My body begging me to sleep again
And my anxiety begins the second I realize I'm alive
I'm trying to learn to function
With all of this negative energy inside me
I know it'll pass and
I know it'll get better
But right now it hurts
I feel unloved
Unloveable
I feel lost inside myself
A place I can't stay too long
Before I lose my mind
I can tell myself I'm worth it and
That my worth isn't defined by others
And it works for a bit
Until something else comes up and
My heart loses its energy
And I either feel like giving up
Or ready to fight everyone
 14° 
Nylee
a half line
incomplete stanza
an unrhymed sentence
well defined trauma

the poet's thought
uncaptured on the paper
many drafts
and crushed papers
around the study

there is a lot
same thoughts
and some sought
no process
little sense
world of words
and many buds

more time needed
to bloom
and here comes
the start of coming doom.
 13° 
Nylee
In the torch of fire,
someone is burning,
dying every second
to keep the flame alive
.
 12° 
mollie
sitting underneath the stairs, i realized suddenly:
i could die here.

i could die here,
and would anyone know?
i could die here, under the ***** staircase,
and nothing would change.

a friend of mine came for me eventually;

someone i don't know too well,
but well enough.

and she squeezed my hand and told me,
"you're not alone."

as my breathing grew ragged and my chest constricted and my eyes ached, i belatedly realized that was the most terrifying prospect of all.
only thing worse than feeling alone is knowing that so many others feel alone... hope everyone out there is feeling loved.
 12° 
Leviathan Andrew
If I die in a school shooting
I'll never go home again.
My room will sit unused,
A capsule frozen in time,
A snapshot of how I was.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my dog again.
She will sit at the front door
Waiting for me and wondering,
Why I never came home.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never graduate from high school.
My yearbooks will sit stacked
Stopped short of their goal,
Missing years that should have been.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my mom again.
She will sit distraught,
Planning a funeral
For a child taken from her.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my friends again.
They'll sit together, missing me.
One empty seat among them,
A constant reminder of their loss.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my little sister again.
She will sit through high school
Knowing I can't guide her through,
That she has to figure it out alone.

If I die in a school shooting
My school will be stained.
Pools of students lives will sit,
Blood tattoos on the brick structures,
Marks of death ground into it.

If I die in a school shooting
Everyone will wear black.
They'll send their thoughts and prayers
To a town marred by death,
Forever to be the home of a shooting.

If I die in a school shooting
Will the world change?
Or will I become one of hundreds  
Of kids who have to die?
What will it take?

If things continue this way
Children will have to live in fear.
They'll look over their shoulders
Always worried and wondering,
If they'll die in a school shooting.
The state of Florida is now home to the two most deadly mass shootings in American history. Pulse Nightclub was attacked in my city, I have friends who attend Marjory Stoneman Douglas in Parkland. My little sister often fears going to school. I'm afraid to graduate and leave her. I want to be able to protect her if something happens. I hate that we have a reason to be afraid... That it's reasonable to have these fears. I hate it so f*cking much.
 11° 
Cameron Canada
I'm floating.
The ocean mist in my face,
The sun in my eyes.
I feel nothing.
No pain,
No suffering,
I'm away from all the lies.

My cloud floats
Away from the sea,
Towards mountains
And forests;
I get lost in the trees.
Lost in a world
Where no one hears me scream.
Lost,
But found.

I step down,
Feel the earth,
Taste the air and the breeze.
I run far away,
Away from the trees.
I see where I've been,
Where I wish I could be.
Maybe, here,
I can be my own tree.

I stop growing.
I can't hear the world,
It doesn't need me anymore.
Somewhere distant,
I hear someone open a door.
My name is called...
I walk into the cold.
Put on a smile,
Play fake happy.
I'm good at doing what I'm told.
 11° 
Nylee
wherever I will go
he'll move away
tilted reality
unaware, I am,
he's passing me
changing his paths
so we never meet ever
but we are together
for a second
holding our breath
blinking our eyes
beneath the blue skies
.
 11° 
Ashly Kocher
As I read a Facebook post
I immediately get angered...
Someone had announced they were expecting their 4th child, they found out with a girl...
They went for another ultrasound and to their surprise it wasn’t a girl after all
It was a boy (“it” was hiding)

They posted a status saying “feeling emotional”
“Felling depressed “
I thought to myself “why?” Your having a healthy baby...
I continued to read and it says..
“ We are depressed because we wanted a baby girl, please pray for us during this difficult time and we now adjust to having another boy”
I was confused because your blessed to have another child as so many (like myself) aren’t blessed to have children...
I understand you were happy when you were told it was a girl, but to post your upset and please pray for us?
I don’t understand that part....
Many people around the world would be overjoyed to have a child and your depressed over this....
So sad, especially when you write this on a social media site for all to see...
I pray that you love this healthy child and come to realize how blessed you are to have baby #4......
Rant over.... sorry I just don’t understand people sometimes...
 9° 
Nylee
w** is to blame
for the flame that burns me within
my destiny's storm.

who is to blame
when everything remains the same
it is always the constant pain.

who is to blame
surprisingly locked in frame,
I better learn to refrain.

who is to blame
by everyhow the entirety came
apart, nothing left to claim.

what is to be done
when nothing can be undone
so all I have is the blame
.
 9° 
Blue Melody
You
With your words
The Knife.
You.

Me
Knowing and not knowing,
Afraid and clueless.
Me.

Us
A thing that used to be,
The dust on the mantle.
Us.

We
Will never be the same
The blood that was spilled across the floor.
We.

This crime scene filled with pain and sorrow and regret.  The murderer and the victim one in the same—but also separate.  Two hearts that both dance to the same miserable song.
Oof...  I wrote this one a while ago...

(Also this poem is dedicated to my father, like a like a lot of my poems)
i’d rather write about the freckles on your back than think about all of the ways in which you quite possibly don’t love me.

i feel sick at the very thought of you picking me apart the way you did; fingers grabbing and stroking in a catastrophic symphony of skin and vulnerability.

let’s read between each other’s lines; share my sentences and punctuate my paragraphs with your mouth; because i can breathe easier on the mornings where i wake up wrapped around you.

because my moods change like the ******* seasons and the spinning in my head doesn’t want to stop.
                                         you tell me that i should probably get a therapist because no one that thinks about all the ways in which they could **** themselves has an ounce of mental stability.
                                          i tell you that i have been to four.
                                          names faded into a blur with hazy snippets of conversation remaining.
20mg.
                    30mg.
you tell me that trust issues and scars aren’t endearing and i tell you that neither is counting up the potential number of pills needed to dissolve your body into the living room carpet.

let me sink inside your skin and make a home in your flesh;
i tell you about the nights where i lay awake in the bath turning the water red.
                       tragic, isn’t it.

you tell me that this isn’t how my head should work and i tell you that i already know. everything you could possibly tell me i already know.
i know that 400 calories a day isn’t normal, and my hands shouldn’t shake all the time.
                                             i know.
please let me stitch myself into you, even just for a while; until i no longer feel dizzy and my world stops spinning.
i don’t need you to tell me that it will be okay, because honestly i don’t think it will be and, that in itself, is okay.
                                                                ­                 let me stitch myself into you, because my own skin can’t take it anymore.

let me call you back when my voice stops wobbling and my vision straightens out, but honestly, i’m terrified that it never will. what if this is it. headaches and tears and shaking and blood.
                                             and the debilitating, gut-wrenching feeling of pure and euphoric emptiness.

                                              tragic, isn’t it.
 8° 
Nylee
Walking the street
the dark blue sky
yellow on eyes
down the street lights
I move forward
with many shadows
beside me


Empty street
haunting feelings
stumbling legs
there are buildings
all around me
all asleep in darkness
no movements
I can hear
my intake of air


The last street
to the house
I call my own
I drag my feet
faster
so I can keep
the fear of unknown
down
.
 8° 
Keith Wilson
It's a dull cold March morning
No sign of spring
 8° 
Nylee
This adulthood is the most uncomfortable place I'm in,        
it will not come to an end soon like all the good things do.
 8° 
Joliver
You'll text me, right?
Please say there won't be a day you won't respond
You'll text me, right?
You don't know how important you are
To me and my life
You'll text me, right?
I just want you to be alright
You'll text me, right?
You know I'm always here if you need me
You'll text me, right?
I'd do anything you could ask of me
You'll text me, right?
I love our late night, early morning talks
You'll text me, right?
You don't have to hide from me
Not from me
Never from me
You'll text me, right?
Right?
 8° 
E Lynch
It arrives,
Unnoticed, unannounced.

Quiet,
At first.

Slow,
Seeping, dripping.

I put it down to a few stressful weeks.
I carry on.

It unpacks,
Worries, anxieties.

Gently,
For now,

Tiptoes,
Whispers, creaks.

‘It will leave soon’ I think ‘It always does.’
I keep going.

It settles in,
Getting comfortable.

Getting louder,
And louder.

Banging thoughts,
Insomnia.

‘Please don’t be happening again’.
I shuffle along my daily routine.

Claws in,
Insidious.

Screaming,
24/7.

Shame, worthlessness,
Hurt.

‘Please go away’.
I’m barely coping.

Growing roots,
Into my brain and heart.

Blossoming pain,
With every beat.

Emptiness, loneliness,
Abandonment.

Silence, Stillness,
‘I can’t move, I can’t cope.’
 7° 
ashton
I didn't choose it
I didn't wake up one day and tell myself
let's be anxious
let's be depressed
let's want to die
let's start self harming
I didn't choose to be like this

slowly my problems
my monsters
became visible
they started small
skipping lunch
making a cut or two on my hand
shaking for a while in school
but I fell

I didn't choose to be this person.
We just get handed who we are.
I didn't choose this.
I never wanted to be that

I didn't want to be riddled with anxiety and insecurities,
to wallow in self-pity and sleep for hours everyday
to stay up all night with anxiety
to steal razors
to eat one-hundred calories and then **** it back up
but that's what happened.

I didn't choose this
I didn't choose
I didn't choose to tear apart my life.
it just
happened
I'm really good right now but in a reflective state currently oof
 7° 
Nylee
What we really feel
we'll never tell
what happened
no one remembered
dance around the words
cut tongues with the swords
but we'll not say
we will always lie like that

We lie because we believe
we'll be saved in the end
who knows in truth
maybe we will be the first ones to die

it is for the best
we keep lies within the sea of lies
and when the time comes
all the lies will be pulled together
or maybe more the worse

every effort another lie
now no one is shy
the times will tell why
no one is surprised
truly now the trust has died.
 7° 
madyson shaye
I am crying after making myself *** for the fifth time today. I don't know why. I want to be alone. I want to be alone forever, I don't want to talk to a single person other than myself.
I feel empty.
 7° 
Debanjana Saha
What to do when depression
Strikes again
With more of strength
And me falling weak & apart
Unable to get up from bed
For day or two
Unable to scream for help
Or speak up what's wrong
Lying there like a dead
Waiting for the depression storm to pass
I get up from square one
When it passes
But the destruction still remain
Taking one step at a time
To reform oneself
And fix the armour more stronger
Than ever
To wish for more strength
To weaken the depression storm
And make myself more stronger.
Depression is real. It hits hard and makes oneself paralyzed. How to overcome, still strategizing for years. To make oneself more stronger and finding ways to help oneself when no one around.
 6° 
Cassian
Dad
You always point out every flaw dad
Always reminding me of everything I do wrong
You never cared how I felt dad
Always comparing me to someone else
I already know how ****** I am dad
Believe me I’ve been told thousands of times
That’s why I want to move away from you
You’ve made me feel alone dad
While still saying you’re my friend
I cared but you didn’t
That was my problem I accept responsibility for that
But the hardest part about letting go is that
I’ll never hear you running after me
Deep into the cold
 6° 
Nylee
Wrapped in silk and satin
she has been waiting
long.
She doesn't expect him
not anymore, but habit
stays.
She nor grins,nor frowns
standing at the end of her lawn
alone.
The day count lost numbers,
lost many days and slumber
hours.
Hope faded, love went,
only she stayed
so far
.
We're almost touching.
we were walking side by side,
you're talking about cabs in your hometown.
I can feel the gravity of your hand, calling my fingers
whispering "it's alright."

We're touching but not quite.
you held my shoulder to protect me from the passing cars.
and for the first time in a long while, I felt so fragile.
In this world where I find it hard even to breathe,
you believed me.

I almost said it.
All I need is one ounce of strength to tell you every single thing that I have ever felt about you.

I want to find home in your collarbones.
Would you be kind enough to let a stranger in?
I want to seep in your being because I'm cold.
The world is harsh and my cracks are aching.

Almost.
Please don't ever become a stranger,
whose laugh I can recognize anywhere.
 6° 
September Rose
A little box
Without a key
You hold an air
Of mystery
To sit and glare
Right up there
Flashing red in front of me

I am the one who fills it
And I fill it with myself
No one would guess what's in you
Sitting up atop my shelf

I have thought of your discovery
The pros
And all the cons
But looking at my history
All candidates are wrong

So I suppose you'll stay a secret
I'll keep you to myself
Painted red,
Flashing dread
Little box on my shelf
Please forget you saw this
 5° 
Melissa S
I listened to my inner voice....
When I was filled with fear, when I learned at a young age that real monsters do exist and they are not like the ones in any story book I ever read. The monsters stole away any normal childhood that I could of or should of had.  Pain muted my words from flowing and poisoned my thoughts into growing... this is why I trusted no one.  
At the time I had no other choice... when I was
really the only friend I could totally depend on and count on
I listened to my inner voice...


I listened to my heart...
When all I could hear was a pounding in my ears, when all around me was like a crazy chaotic whirlwind screeching like a barred owl that would then break apart into tiny pieces and sink into a cold abyss forgotten by the sea.  I couldn’t forget the grief as it was real and still inside me. There was a brokenness about me my
heart was fragile and it balanced on the tip of my own desperation
but still I listened to my heart...
          
I listened to the words...
Slowly but surely I was able to come out from that darkened sea and was finally able to try and heal me. Words became my saving grace. I learned to not have muted lips and could give myself a fighting chance. I was able to tear down some of those protective walls to try again to live only in this moment without the armor and the hesitation. Writing became my new love... together we became an inseparable piece of one existence...
I felt so much better after I listened to the words ....
 5° 
SG Holter
Even as dying, I have no time
For bitterness.

Life was too short,
Even before.

Each step holds gratitude for the sound
Of snow beneath it.

For
Now

I carry my passenger
Unburdened.

Say no to nothing. Not
Even the cancer.

Even tomorrow's mother's tears,
Father's clenched fists upon casket;

Flowers; loss. Inevitability.
Death grows inside me.

The opposite of a
Pregnancy.
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