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Carter Ginter Jun 2018
Poison flows through my veins
And I'm ready to attack
Do not come near me
Do not **** with me today
Depression is anger turned inward
And I'm sick of feeling sad
Maybe if I turn my anger outward
I can start to feel better again
They say assertiveness beats aggression
But I need to let it out somehow
amber  Jul 2018
all-consuming
amber Jul 2018
the first thing i see is headlights.
the beam is so intense,
it startles me.
i hear the rush of wind,
circling around me,
whipping against my warm skin.
the light is approaching rapidly,
piercing my eyesight,
blinding my vision.
the blare of a horn,
sends my ears ringing.
the last thing i see is darkness.
Bad Luck  Sep 2018
Nemesis
Bad Luck Sep 2018
Devilish torment -- her body is my lament.
She crawls beneath the cracks and finds
The dark cellar my "worst" ferments.
She feeds it as it rots, just to make its wine more bitter...
Squeezed from the finest lies,
Designed to make an addict from a quitter.

Like a dark and tempting vacuum that my soul cannot escape,
Attractive in its repulsion,
Its a part of me that loves the way it hates.
Masturbatory and selfish, With a thirst that can't be quenched...
She finds the spots within me, that make even deities flinch.
Their knees crack and crumble, at its all-consuming "nothing"...
I never knew my zero could be so wholly unbecoming.

She, or it, will surely be my undoing.
Yet, somehow, that keeps me moving.
So uncomfortably I'll admit...
It's the brutal nature of it all,
That I find so disturbingly soothing.
"Bad Luck: In a Wakeful Contradiction" is now available on Amazon in paperback!

Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1691941182
Alyssa Underwood Nov 2015
God's love is delight itself
it is beauty itself
it is tender yet fierce
sweet yet wild
steadfast yet unpredictable
enveloping yet freeing
captivating yet boundless
protective yet empowering
certain yet never boring
relentless yet gentle
secure yet mysterious
trustworthy yet exciting
all-consuming yet unfathomable
He is everything
you’ve ever hoped for, dreamed of,
longed after or imagined
and so much more
He is the Lover of your needy,
thirsty soul and He fights
continually for your heart
Nadia Aug 31
Rhyming Review - The Consuming Fire by John Scalzi

An amusing adventure in outer space,
Watching an alternate human race
Scheme for power and fight to survive
- They need each other to stay alive

Travelling space through the flow,
The shoals are the only way to go;
Except the shoals are fading out
And vital connections are now in doubt

Grayland II, in their resplendency
As Emperox of the Interdependency,
Is responsible for billions of souls
And must prepare them for shifting shoals

Her many foes would seize the throne
Fortunately Grayland's not all alone
Her friends, while clever number few;
Time is running out, can they pull through?


NCL 2019
Expressing my appreciation of books through poetry. Thoroughly enjoyed this 2nd book in the Interdependency series - maybe you will too :)
Kam Jul 2018
Clothes have outgrown me many times over,
but this sadness never does.
One size.
fits all.
There should have been an obituary for cancer,  not you.
Wishing these slits within my skin could have been
replaced by a reality check from you, “You chose to exist.”

My name causes a sigh to escape from lips,
that do not feel like they belong to me,
the girl,
whose words always had to be special.

The schematics of hospitals like a birthmark in my brain,
born into sadness, a gut feeling as a child.
Never trusting time
due to what it delivers.

Death, being the only thing I desired.
But you, 
who I love,
endlessly-
robbed by it.
Whose ebb for life glowed so feverishly.
Stopped comparing depression to lace,
restricted the belief that suicide is poetic,
seeing things as they were.
More often than not, applauded for feeling emotions deeply.
Every second that dies, the shift of my heart quakes.

This world is not tender.

II. Sad.
I have known the flowers I wanted at my own premature funeral,
knowing how many bouquets honored you that day.

split open my veins like a dimension
reminiscent of days where I anticipated deathbeds.


My family wondered,
can we make it through another day?
Death scares me for what it has taken,
yet, I’m not afraid to die-
it’s all I deserve.
So I await the day pain erupts
from my throat,
acknowledging the days a soul
lived inside of my body-
footprints that walked,
belonging to me.

But I learned so well.
How to suffer with a smile,
dreading the beating of my heart
how unfair—
I don’t want to take these deep breaths
You deserved,while I masquerade as a member of the undead
Never outgrowing the desire to rot with the phantoms residing under my bed.


III. Jokes played by the universe.
punchlines delivered,
how could anyone to stand to be in the same room as myself?
How could anyone look over skyscrapers and sunsets,
and not be infatuated with concrete consuming them?
How I shared a sigh of relief during the thought-
of knowing people would thrive without me,
or the power of a belly laugh,
resembling a laugh track audience
drowning out 3 AM suicidal thoughts.
—V.H.
I wrote this in pink gel pen, maybe, that’s another joke.
poetryaccident Sep 2018
If you seek a remedy
outside the balm of oval pill
or a spoon of sour taint
beware the toil on substitutes
a mortal coil could give relief
redress what fate has abused
the broken strive to sustain
with the help of temporal prey

lingering wounds demand too much
beware the bill someone pays
when the check does not care
agony will remunerate
services rendered tap the weak
no pound of flesh is the price
instead the toil taps the heart
wringing emotions from tired stone

one subsists at the end
now the strong in contrast
to the frail forever lost
healer fallen with no net
the weak cannot be the cure
even as they may recline
on the alter as sacrifice
for the selfish consuming love.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180912.
The poem “Consuming Love” was inspired by a meme that stated “I am too weak to be your cure”.
Aniron  Jul 2015
Witchcraft
Aniron Jul 2015
There is witchcraft in the skies,
as the clouds swallow
the empty spaces in between,
consuming it like a lover.


There is witchcraft in your eyes;
as they burn through mine
impatiently, ceaselessly;
a forest on fire.
( It is what hides
in the very shadow of you
when it rests in a puddle of water
of the rain

that never came.)
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