Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
EmperorOfMine Jun 2019
Reflections reflecting on repeating patterns
A symbol of limbo and curses ever after
From calling and crashing a story to tell
Of a boy who was trapped inside of a hell
But the hope seems to flicker and this day it did shine
His year would be something, one of a kind
And there would be good days and some gloomy ones too
But the boy found some wisdom and interests that grew
So that boy that would never see this circle ever end
Had to hope somewhat harder so maybe he'd win
Though that story is moving, the end is away
Taking Time on vacation, but will come someday
When it does we will wonder and ponder with fear
May that boy have his passions and years be endeared.
TheSilentScream Jun 2019
Patient poet, sing your heart
May some see or hear your spark
If they don't, at least you've sung
Release the stress for more to come
It never ends, that'd be a lie
So sing your heart, never be shy
But don't lose love, for those that pick
You may not be the favorite stick
But one day you may find yourself
A diamond under paint so thick
And dead some see you, a ghost in life
You'll come to be beyond the strife
So melodies your heart can bring
And in that will be perfect harmony.
Akshat Agarwal Jun 2019
My happy place is my reality now,
dancing like a  symphony on the seventh heaven.
It's the kind of joy, that'll keep me warm,
when the fireplace freezes and blisters surround my bruises.

The merryland  is not greeting me too long
'cause the reality will take me to the peak and spin away.
I can sense the free-fall charging towards me
and hurling my life back to the ordinary way.

I'd be a happier man if my happiness wasn't real
and if it was a dream that has decided to stay.
Dreams never die, they're like vintage honey,
the sweetness is complicated but it gets better each day.

I can let my summer go on for ages
and lie wasted under sheets of pleasure.
Living the dreamy life will make me a clumsy ******
but will let me hold on to my life's treasure.
TheSilentScream Jun 2019
I don't have a "him" or "her" to gawk and talk about
Nor do I have a vice or a vanity to pour.

I don't believe victims are mythical, and so, I do have one thing I can sing.


Loneliness is involuntary.
You can tell me that all it takes is "going out" and meeting people...
But say that same thing to Frankenstein.

Did you forget that all you need to lose that chance is to be devalued?
And must I remind you that ghosts aren't frequently seen?

A moth to a dragon has no existence, like the shadow to a flame upon a candlestick.
But that's not my point.


Solitary living is voluntary. Choosing to push people away, gathering only yourself and living your day...


But what about those who want people, yearn for romance, cry out at this shallow cold world for why they seek those who lie, cheat, ****, and steal from them, but dismiss those who are more likely to remain honest, aid, save, and protect?

Loneliness is involuntary.
No one would beg to feel nonexistent unless you got to receive what we yearn for.

Solitary is voluntary.
To choose yourself, because you don't trust anyone else, even if you too can be your worst enemy.

Whether one will read this or not.
This came from my heart.
And it's a real discussion that people avoid.
Mental health is real and so is the stigma.
A shallow heart is easy to scare.
A deeply broken heart can shatter a world.
Why isolate someone because they may not physically appeal to you?

Whether it's because they're "strange" or "unattractive".
Isolation can break a soul...don't be the one to turn a blind eye.

Do you?
Obviously, you probably won't see this if you don't read it, but I suppose I should explain why this may be personal.

I struggle with loneliness. I'm often in a state in which I lack support or single in my life. I've been this way up until this year, and I have a theory that it's much bigger than I really know. I've lost many potential friends, even before a complete school year could finish, and this is consistent with every year, hence why even though this year may be a little different, I don't feel much better. I've lost family members, my entire family, and all to nothing but distance and a lack of support. If I've done something to cause it, I've never been told so.

Actually, it's quite the opposite. I've been told many good things and complimented on my care and genuine consideration of those I invest in; that i'm personable, loving, kind, attractive, funny, weird, "but in a good way", and a lifetime type of friend.

What boggles my mind is how I receive the opposite treatment. These things have been said by multiple people and more than once. My loneliness, at one point, was so bad that I became desperate to keep people around, which obviously did NOT work in my favor. This year has been a good year so far, more than less...but to speak the truth...I've lived a life as a ghost without really being given the choice.

And this sudden change in my life, this year...scares me.
cyrene Jun 2019
i speak of those who were made silent.

so much words yet so little consideration. you crushed a very living foundation of innocent families. all those concrete wall cracks are evident that you single handedly ruined lives. how more cruel art thou, ye men of cruelty ?

i speak of those who cry blood, yet are let to suffer silently because of you men that shut the truth, which one day i will unfold.
i wrote this o behalf of all those people who are living through war. this is also for those cruel people to stop ruining lives, let's all spread love & peace.
TheSilentScream Jun 2019
Sing to me, one last time, your melodies no matter the rhyme.
And bring me peace one moment again,
Forever, this time, my eternal friend.
From me to you, you wonderful thing,
This life around us sure does change.
If all must go, and you must too,
I hope I go and walk with you.
No song before has made me cry,
Not like you have, not like this sky.
And so I owe you my own life,
My last dying wish is to watch you shine.
Wherever I go,
Whatever I'll be,
I love you,

To You, Nature
From Soul, just little old me.

em Jun 2019
given the map that was supposed to lead me to the right
it lead me left
2019 is loss
now i've lost my way completely
scrap
TheSilentScream Jun 2019
Questions come in stories
Building towers full of worries
For me to leap off of and into a sea
A sea of anxiety, never-ending, undying
And although I laugh as if my wilting flower is fine
It wilts until completely deprived
Dried and deceased, crumbled and stagnant, at least
Up and down goes my merry-go-round
Crooked crown, a king resting on hell hounds
Painted portraits, of hypnotic orchids
I've lost my mind
In a mania.

In a mania
I've lost my mind
My emotions have become so much more synthetic
Abolished to hell where the bad dogs go
Spinning round and round, disrupting my mental flow
Chaotic, messy, lively, wet, to say the most
It grows until completely fulfilled
Although I cry, because my growing weeds are poor
I feel somewhat okay, on this burning sediment
And as I clutch onto the rope above me
Burning the ground of any hope
Answers are lost in mazes
TheSilentScream Jun 2019
Pumping emotion to circulate words,
that's where the passion flies like birds,
grow abundant and fresh, like an exotic fruit,
the flow of magic that settled root,
I set no time to blow no mind,
just write my name, for someone to find,
I plan no art, i'm not looking to be seen,
but if I am seen,
consider me, a passionfruit.

Some find me sweet, some find me ****,
some think of me like I am art,
I'm just a thing grown from this world,
passionate
as a passionfruit.

I hold no aim to be the best,
I'm not looking for some hard test,
I just want to be valued cause,
I am just a passionfruit.
I tend to forget about all that goes on in my life,
Each mental note is burned,
Like a moth enticed by the beautiful flame,
No matter the importance,
Each trial becomes engulfed by the bigger questions,
That tend to argue about my very existence,
Every realization of growth rises in smoke,
A puff of air released from my lungs,
Blows it away into the blissful nothingness,
That sits in front of us all,
What remains is not memory,
Nor is it emotions,
They are questions,
That only fuel the fire lit between,
My breaths and dreams.
Next page