Rj Sep 21
I isolate myself.
I stop talking to the people I called friends.
I stop smiling.
I feel lonely.

I pick myself up off the ground,
I meet new friends,
I laugh at all their jokes,
Rinse off the shame and loneliness,

and repeat.

I isolate myself,
I stop talking to my new friends,
I stop laughing.
I feel alone again.

Then I rinse it all off again,
Cleanse myself of sadness,
Of all the toxins in my mind

and I start it all over.

Rinse and repeat.
not v good but uhhhh here
Rj Aug 12
There are no monsters here.
We are not pristine or pure
But neither are we ***** or sinful.
I let my feet touch the ground.
Stable and secure.
There are angels all around me.
Dark grey eyes and soft pink lips.
Hands that softly wrap around your waist,
Wings that can swallow you whole,
Feathers of bright colours and hearts to match.
We are here,
Innocent and free
Bright and beautiful
We are not ashamed of the scars that litter our hearts and skins
The battles we have fought,
No matter if we won or lost
Are why we have found ourselves here
Where bright colours are beautiful
And our scars fill us with pride.
There are angels all around me
But what makes them angels
Is what made them human.
ok I rlly hate the ending but here it is it's very special to me pls be careful with it
Rj Aug 10
It is true that
The hyacinth flowers on the hill
Will be trampled and muddied
By the calloused, bare feet of all who tread there
Until they are dead and rotted
But I ask you to find a place
Where the streams flow rapidly,
Harsh and unforgiving,
Dangerous enough so that no man will dare cross,
No hand may pluck you from the ground
And grow there.
Next to the water of the stream,
In the midst of all else good and holy,
Safe from the reaches of men,
You will grow,
Bright purple and untarnished,
Stunning in your own right
And I will walk the dead hill,
I will try and brave the harsh waters,
If only to see you with my own eyes.
I wrote a poem inspired by an old poem. Guess which one? It's rlly obvious loll anyways sorry for the weird language and stuff I'm not used to writing in other styles
Rj Jul 16
Breathe in,
My hands shake
Pins and needles in my head
And in my fingertips
Breathe in,
You've got it under control
I lie to myself,
Breathe out,
Pretending like I'm sovereign over my own body,
The silence crashes in my ears like waves,
All I can hear are my own ragged breaths
Breathe out,
Steady, slowly
Just catch your breath.
Now faster, quickly
And once you realize you've lost control,
Hold your breath.
Tw Idk Friday I had a rlly long panic attack it ****** **** also I didn't edit this so have fun w my twelve million mistakes :)
Rj Jul 15
to think that we're not ready for this
it makes me sad
to wonder if we'll never be
it makes me lonely  
to stay up all night wondering what could've been  
if i could only turn back time
if i could only let you hold me tight
i know you want this just as much as me
Another vrnt. I'm sad. I'm lonely. I don't like this, but I'll get over it.
Rj Jul 10
She remembers the first time she watched him leave
She remembers the way her voice shook as she exhaled
And as she watched him turn the corner
She asked with trembling hands and a fast beating heart,
"Does this ever get easier?"
And no one answered.
She was alone,  
Save for the cold breeze biting at her bones
And the deep purple sky filling her lungs
She closed her eyes.
That was then.
And now,
This is the last time she will ever say goodbye to him.
It's different this time.
A proper goodbye,
Bittersweet and all.
She turns the corner, looking back at him once more
She watches him as she leaves
Drowns in his smile one final time
Listens to the sound of his laughter, although it makes her heart clench
And while she doesn't believe in silver lining,
She thinks that perhaps someone can smooth out the rough edges of life.
Not him.
He warms her up from the inside out
But he burns when she gets too close.
He makes her cheeks turn pink
And her hands blister.
She exhales.
The sands of time flow through her hands,
Days turn to years,
Memories fade,
But the constant flow of time between her fingers is almost comforting
Life moves fast,
And everything has now come to a close
But for the first time in a long time
She thinks she's okay with that.
I remember when I wrote this. Tbh most of this ain't even a metaphor lol
Rj Jul 8
Free at last, she breathed into the cold night air
Alone in her relief, although she is aware of all who are watching
With her small, strong hands she holds indescribable power
She holds a true kind of freedom,
an everlasting flame that warms her on the coldest nights
She smiles, bright as the stars and real as the ground on which she stands
The air no longer clouds her lungs, but clears them with every inhale
She is no longer lost,
She is found,
Not by a person, but by the universe itself
It holds her tightly with its gentle winds that run through her hair like hands
and soft skies that give her a home no matter where she goes
She relaxes into it's caring embrace, like a child back to her mother
The taste of liberation is sweet on her lips,
Like heavy rain after a drought
Her laughter rings like a bell,
Loud and clear even from miles away
Welcome home,
The universe tells her.
With the cosmos to guide her safely
And the promise of deliverance before her
She takes the first step back home.
Can't always just post sad poems u know. Anyways this has nothing to do with me I was just getting tired of being a little ***** so.
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