Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Sep 2013 Sam
mûre
What's that you've got there?
Here, let me assess.
Trust me, I'm a therapist.

Let's peel back the bandage on your pain,
and compartmentalise your vulnerability
into units we can measure.

Just don't ask me how I am.
I'll change the subject.
Gracefully, mind you.

Besides, I'm fine anyways-

(it only hurts when I breathe)
 Sep 2013 Sam
Vinnie Brown
It has been a while
Since I saw insanity
It's been a while where I couldn't sleep
That I was chased by nightmares
A wise man once told me that you are as insane as you believe you are
That there are natural born disasters and things in this world that will **** your dreams
Horrors no one should face
I learned that those horrors are us
Us as people we are destroyers of life but also its givers
Horrors as simple as our minds
She told me the other day "I love you."
Her soft whispers caressing the folds of my desires tell me I am not insane
And so it has been a while since I have felt like this
It has been a while truly that I feel I am not insane
Its been what feels like a life time to hear "I love you."
It'll be a while till I can say I am a giver as I have yet to learn not to destroy
But she yeah she...well she's a wondeful teacher.
You're not alone.
 Sep 2013 Sam
blankpoems
I am Lex
And I am Alexandra.
I am not “baby” or “darling”.

I have more flies in my house than friends.

I am eighteen years old
But I feel as though the number should have an extra zero.

I am a student in more ways than one; of school, of the universe, of the stars in the night sky that I used to swear you hung all on your own for my eyes-
my gray-blue eyes with specks of yellow light around the pupils that make it look like I have always just been dancing in the street lights.

My pupils expand like black holes when my serotonin levels even out.

I am so short that I could pass as a pixie.
Five feet and one inch of metaphors that are so deeply rooted into my bones.
My ribcage knows truth like you placed it in my lungs for me to breathe in.

My hair is so indecisive, it changes colour biweekly.
I was born blonde.
My brother was born blue with a cord around his neck.

Every night before he goes to sleep he asks me to scratch his back.
I am older than he.
I feel that I am older than most.

I like old things.
If it’s not broken, don’t fix it.
I need someone with an old soul, I’m all Elvis and vinyl and Marilyn Monroe.
I could listen to Paul Simon’s “Live Rhymin’” on phonograph until I drop dead.

I wish it were winter all year long
But I don’t like being cold.

I collect tattoos like fireflies in mason jars.

I’m on pills that are supposed to make me happy.
I don’t think I’ve been happy since 2009
and I miss Her every day.

I’m more scared of life than death
but I no longer want to embrace dying.
Sometimes you forget to breathe just for a second, and then you realize
what you would be missing.

I think my depression is sort of like that.
It’s like being a bird and you’re the only one that can’t fly.

Nonetheless, I wish for stillness.
For peace, for fun in flatlines.
I wish for summer days by the lake
and no cell phone service.

I yearn for California.

I love reading so much that if I got paid for it,
I’d be a billionaire by now.
If you look into my eyes you could probably see traces of Sylvia Plath.

I wonder sometimes why she stuck her head in that oven.

I like vegetarian sushi, so basically just vegetables.
I was a vegetarian for a long while but then I decided that I wanted a hot dog.
I still regret that sometimes.

I’m afraid of frogs but nothing else.
I like to watch scary movies with the lights off.
I love to sleep, but I’m an insomniac.
And most of the time Melatonin doesn’t even knock me out.

I don’t believe in God but I believe in ghosts.
I don’t believe in hell but for Her sake, I hope there’s a heaven.
I believe in science but the class makes me want to rip my eyes out.
Except if it’s astronomy.

My parents usually depress me.

I believe purely in art.
Give me art or give me death.

I want to be a poet.
I want a living poet society.
My name is Lex
And this is 2013.
this was my first assignment for university english
based loosely on "Ellie" poem by Lea Wait
 Sep 2013 Sam
LeeAna
Where I Belong
 Sep 2013 Sam
LeeAna
No man is going to change me
I've been through that and now I see clearly
I can love and I can be loved
But this time it will be because of me
Not because of what they want me to be.

Through iniquity I have grown strong
And no one can tell me that this makes me wrong
Finally the person reflected back
Is who I've wanted to be all along
I've finally found where I belong.
Next page