Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Isobel G Jan 2011
Maybe I'll just bleed,
For a moment,
So the pain will be,
Somewhere visable
©Nicola-Isobel H.     14.01.2011
basic happiness Jul 2014
The park sits in the middle of a bustling city
The skyline visable all around.
There are large oak trees scattered about
And winding paths hug the ground.
A gentle breeze pushes the soft grass
Back and forth with effortless might.
The sunlight pushes its way past the leaves of trees
Creating dappled, swaying light.
This is the city park, where children come to play
Tag and other mischevious games.
Their laughter almost drowns out the hard sound
That of a bustling city rightfully claim.
jeffrey robin Aug 2010
behind barricades

before the red bandanna  meant you were a Crip or Blood

undaunted, refusing to be
..........intimidated

nameless
.....(known only
to
..........................YOUR LOVE
as  "love")

the streets are red with the ******
dreams our youth  is bleeding
on these streets
but then  the gangs recieved from the c.i.a.
control over the drug trade
and killed us all
-----

(behind barricades)

the liars are everywhere and those most visable
are
the greatest of the liars

speaking softly sanely

to you all................
.....................in
words-
impossible
--

love is a powerful feeling

only love

means a thing
Erica Statham Jan 2011
The Sister
pushing pram, playing
face ever changing, as she grows.

The Father
drinking tea, swaying
blurring the edges of his woes.

The Mother
going out, sneaking
looking over shoulder, as she goes.

The Brother
behind bars, crying.
Only Mum visits, everyone knows.

The Child
Safe, soundly sleeping.
Sweetpea visable, until it first snows.
© Erica Statham 9th January 2011
Chalsey Wilder  May 2017
Hurt
Chalsey Wilder May 2017
It burned,
Worse than a diagnosal disease
Why did you have to do this to me?
I remember the spark of life in your eyes as you were choking me
Convincing me, it was a part of a dream that would not repeat
After the second time
After the third time
After the fourth time using your hands to paint me black and blue with your anguish
I could not be coaxed by your convention with my eyes swollen nearly shut and only red and bright stars were visable
You cannot buy my heart to break my spirit,
You cannot break my spirit and think buying my heart will heal it
While you're trying to **** it
I got out because I willed it
I still feel the anguish you painted on me
The black and blue went deeper than my skin
Deeper than my thoughts, it has painted my subconscious
Tamara Stoffels Mar 2014
That I'll never feel again, that the numbness I've enbalmed myself in might never wash off.

That I'll never find a place where I belong, that I'll always be an outcast, an outlier.

That I'm too different, that people will never be able to accept both me and my endless flaws.

That I'll never extinguish the fire of bitterness and regret that burns endlessly in my hardened heart.

That I'll never be articulate again, that one day my witty words will fail me and my blundering words will completely take over.

That I'll never feel confidence, that I'll never be able to look past my exterior, my vessel.

That I'll never feel the warm light of affection and love, that the clouds of poisonous lonliness will consume me with fatal lesions that seep out scorn and desperation.

That I'll never be able to forgive, that I'll never be able to forget. That my decisions will haunt my psyche forever, ever present.

That I'll always be mediocre, that I'll always settle.

That I'll always be misunderstood and mistreated. That I'll never be some-ones perfect fit.

That I'll always hide behind cynisim and sarcasm. That my sharp blunt words will come back to tear at me.

That I'll always be this way.

I'm worried that life has broken me in ways that are irrepairable.

I'm worried that I will remain this way. Damaged, insecure and broken.

Yes, wounds tend to heal. But what happens when you are ruined inside and out?

Not in a dramatic way, in an honest way. Visable scars cover me.

I'm worried that the marks, ****** cuts and scabbing blemishes will be my albatross and that it will consume me.

I'm worried.
Mikey Pooler  Jan 2016
Galaxies
Mikey Pooler Jan 2016
It’s a shame to me,

to witness what’s become of the culture that raised me.

We’re sold on what was preached as good advice.

“Shoot for the moon because even If you miss, you’ll be amongst the stars.”

But see I feel that statement could use some clarification.

Our eyes glisten from the brightness of the so ever infinite beauty,

but what if I told you that beauty was the cause of my pain?

What if I told you that the real moon's right here on planet earth?

There’s 7 billion galaxies right in front of us, going unseen.

What If I told you the term “Shoot for the moon”,

really meant shoot for someone’s heart,

not the one that reigns above us from afar?

There’s the most beautiful galaxy,

nestled beneath the skin of someone

who’s so lost they don’t sleep.

The stars within are cloaked

by the clouds of their depression, Also insecurities.

Waiting to be the butterflies that dance to the rhythm of your heartbeat,

waiting to be your favorite twinkle in her eyes.

Waiting to show you a new color you notice when she smiles and,

that will be your new favorite color.

So If we’ve lost sight of the galaxies within our life,

all because they weren’t visable as hope in the dark night sky.

How long until we lose sight to those too?
Like the visable poeticness
scattered all around us -
there is so much hidden beauty
infront of our eyes,

Only few seem to see it all,
others fail to see any of it at all--they walk
as though they are hypnotised.

She is so many
of these beautiful things,
seen by few, invisible to so many,

Priceless--worth a fortune to few,
To others, worthless--worth only
a single penny.

She is like the stubborn raindrops
left behind on a window
after the rain,

She is that song
that you resonate with,
touching a chord
as it hits your heart,
after pumping through
your every vein.

She is the bright rainbow
covering up a scary storm -

She is still able to smile
after extremely bad weather,
she has had this strength
ever since she was born.

She is the hopeful sunrise
following a long, dark,
dreadful night,

A serene calm ocean,
a heavenly magical horizon
that you are lucky enough to catch
in your sight.

She is the much needed umbrella
that pops up and keeps you dry,

She is your wings, unseen,
but she carries you ever so high -
she is the reason why you can fly.

She is so many special things
that so many fail to recognise
and see,

Not being appreciated
does not mean
that she isn't everything
that she knows to be.

She is the delicate butterfly
that came from nowhere,

The precious tainted one
that struggled so hard
and survived to be there.

She is often misunderstood,
sometimes she doesn't even exist,

But she knows her worth -
with the unconditional love from God,
her children, and her man,
she will continue to persist.

She is so many special things
that so many fail to recognise
and see,

She is unique -
she is unlike anyone,
deep down she is very proud
that she is "She!"

By Lady R.F ©2017
Storm Raven  Jul 2015
see me
Storm Raven Jul 2015
Tell me what you see?
Tell me what you think?
I am like a piece of art in a museum.
Visable for everyone.
But only a few people can see what I truely mean.
I am like a book in the bookstore.
Everyone can see me but covers can be misleading.
Only one will get to read me.
Find the true me.
See my deepest secrets.
My darkest fears.
My hopes, my dreams, my everything.
I am like the rain.
Some people will only get wet.
Others will feel me falling on their skin.
This are the people I want to live with.
But they scare me too.
I am a poem.
Everyone can read me.
But only a few can read between the lines and see what I truely mean.
And I would love to meet someone who feels me like that.
But it scares me.
My true self being visable.
Vunerable.
All my fears, dreams, secrets, hopes open to see.
But I am ready.
Ready to show, to share.
So please take a look.
Maybe you are the one who sees me.
about a friend or lover, someone who understands and truely sees
Gary Dec 2014
We were once mountains
Standing tall, standing proud.
Mountains of great girth and of great pride.
We were once, the top of this world.
Landmarks, conquest, tourist attractions.
We were once as tall as the clouds.
And where safety , for the Eagles home.
We were once.

We were once, great boulders of strength and of size.
We were once great boulders hanging on for life.
We were once in the mids of this world.
Added beauty and charm to the mountains side.
Became steps to help others achieve their  goals, became hidding spots for smaller animals to hid from their prey.
We were once great boulders.
Relatable, reachable and visable.
We were once.

We were once rocks, that have fallen from the highest of peaks.
Rocks that have been broken, slammed, stepped on to help you achieve.
Rocks that made up the lower grounds of a stream.
Planted, stacked and buried
As a bridge for your feet,
To keep you dry.
We were once rocks.
Used as a grip for your boots, to keep you safe.
As a path to guide you, to all that you achieve.
As caverns for the minnow and his family.
As a safe haven from the piranha.
We were once.

We were once dust
The wearing,
the fragile truth.
Looked upon as not a thing.
We were once.
We are once.
Once
We are all dust.
Once,
We are all the beginning.
Once,
We are all,  the foundation.
Once,
We can see, we are all needed
Once,
We can hear, we are all our own strength.
Once we accept,  all for who they are, all of what we can be.
Once,
We see truth and strength
In unity.
All is just as import to building a powerful mountain.
Once,
All this,
Then, this rocks dust can rebuild
His majestics mountain of strength.
Eloi Jun 2016
Cold hearted,
Iced blood,
These feelings of pain, come in like a flood.

Blue veins,
****** lips,
Take some more pills, go for a kip.

Visable rib cage,
Hunched back,
Skin and bones,
Smoke some crack.

Black eyes,
Bruised lies,
Smoking in chains to pass the time.

Winter comes,
Cold and ******,
I sit here alone,
Waiting for you to come home.


Christmas arrives,
I wonder why,
You had to leave,
And no longer breathe.

So, I'll stay in bed all day,
Put the gifts away,
And remember the day,
That you said you'd stay.
Jazzy Loveless Feb 2014
The world shatters in a million brilliant pieces.
His footsteps echo on the floor
but I can see his strong frame no more.
Blackness is the only thing visable
and I ***** blindly for the exit of this broken place.
My fingertips brush against a wall
my feet follow the path.
It's a circular world with no way out
I'm trapped!
My feet fumble awkwardly and I stumble and fall
and lay defeated on the ground.
Images of him
laughing,
smiling,
loving me, race through my mind like a waterfall
drowing me.
I begin to choke on bitter tears.
I can't breathe anymore.
The blackness is closing in.
Slowly my body bends and I give in.

Gasping and covered in sweat,
my body trembles, my heart beats frantically.
I'm surrounded in the darkness caused by light
but he didn't truly leave tonight.
It was just a dream...

— The End —