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Bethie Aug 23
who would've thought that I'd make it to 22
that my fire never extinguished after all those years of rain
my seven-year-old self would be glad to see she was preserved

who would've thought that the one I dreamed about for six years
now sleeps in my bed at night, and calls me his wife
my 11-year-old-self would never believe it

who would've thought that, somewhere along the line,
I made friends who care for me and I them
my 13-year-old self would be relieved

who would've thought that my heart became soft again
and I learned to let myself cry, and feel
my 15-year-old self might just smile

who would've thought that I made it out of my hometown,
traveled the world on my own, and decided to come back
my 18-year-old self would be astounded

who would've thought that I became a teacher
and I don't fear my calling anymore
my 19-year-old self would laugh in disbelief

who would've thought that, despite all the years of isolation,
dissociation, fear, and heartache, I emerged still me

who would've thought?

not me
maybe time does heal old wounds
Postpartum is a myth
Postpartum anxiety is a myth.
You can’t have those 2 years later.
Get over it.
You can’t have depression and postpartum depression at the same time.
You can’t have postpartum anxiety and anxiety at the same time.
You can’t have both?!
Get over it.
What if I don’t wake up?
Get over it.
Oof that hurt…
I S A A C Mar 6
22
birthday, birthday
22 years spent in orbit
looking for the treasure in golden moments
hoping i am deserving as destiny’s unfolding
tired of withholding, fasting from my motives

birthday, birthday
sunken thoughts from the optimistic ship
smiles can only get you so far, as far as this
recline into decline into the abyss
growing is the acceptance of this
Purcy Flaherty Mar 2022
Symptoms...
snot,
shortness of breath,
sneezing,
chest pain,
headaches,
dizziness,
visual distortions,
can't focus my eyes or my ears,
irregular sleep patterns,
confusion,
apathy & restlessness,
bouts of euphoria and outwardly narrating my inward thoughts, like Yoda!

These symptoms started over a week ago, however; I've been living with most of these issues my whole life???
Eexhausted all the time
Patterson Jul 2021
I am 22;
staring at the mismatched cups
arranged in my kitchen cupboard,
wondering if I'll ever have great big matching sets
of plates, bowls, forks, knives, spoons
and cups

I am 22 and in love,
wondering how I got so lucky
-throwing myself backward,
through time,
to the person standing at my front door
one whole year ago.
Heart-hammering in their chest,
a fresh-cut key in their hand,
still raw with heart-ache:
An empty flat,
and a new life
behind a locked door.

I am old enough now
to recognize the shifting cycles;
to know that every August
is painted rose gold like setting sun
-and to know that February
cannot claw and tear at my ribs
lest I let it.
I am old enough to know
that I can start over -
without fear, without shame.
But young enough to leave bigger things
to chance:
                 love
                 happiness
                 hope
                 promise
these are answers I don't have

And I don't need to.
No,
I am 22,
brewing coffee in chipped cups,
planting kisses on a forehead,
arms, hands, sides, cheeks, lips,
dancing and jumping
when the world lifts around me.
I am 22,
and the world lies open before me.
I moved into my flat on July 4th in 2020, and though I am miles away from America, I felt that same spirit of liberty. To this day I view July 4th as my emancipation - my fresh start. And life has only gotten better since that day; September came and I fell in love, December came and I said it out loud for the first time. And since then I've only been growing and finding my feet in the wide world.
I am genuinely happy, and though heart break left me raw, I wouldn't change a single thing.
Kuzhur Wilson Mar 2021
A 22 ct poem on gold



Dear gold



In the body of a woman

you attain elegance

lying chained to the hip

fatigue like



Endless are the times

when earlobes and foot

seduced me without you



Mere threads of yellow

will do better than you



There's a cuteness

seeing you

swing from a single ear



Nose studs, with a stare

have stung me sleepless.

The ones made of rolled

gold too



But, dear gold

You become gold

when you are pawned



Like the revolutionary

who becomes more revolutionary

when hanged



Like the soldier

who gets shot and becomes

a soldier even more



Dear gold in the pawn shop

My gold, dear gold





Translated by Binu Karunakaran
Translated by Binu Karunakaran
Shrika Nov 2020
-Light-

Darkness pours into me
in shimmering rivulets,

-Is-

thrumming in staccatos
of carnal dour;

-All-

begging me to yield, to burn,
to drown in its mercy,


-That-

But it knows not that
a flicker is all it takes
to light

-Remains-
Diwali, the festival of light, celebrated in India signifies this hope, new beginnings and the power of light.
A very happy diwali to everyone!

I'm very thankful to everyone in this wonderful community who have been constantly supporting me and have been appreciating my poems. I have now decided to take a break in writing as I'm almost at the end of my senior year in school and things have started to get hectic. I may not be able to post anything for a few months. Hopefully by the time I come back with a new poem, I'd have a good chance of getting into my dream college(fingers crossed):D
Lavender Menace Oct 2020
Lovely flowers shall wither much too soon for you my darling! I can sing in only runes near your broken corpse sewn effigy and I will steal the energy from that place that I was meant to burn.
So please my love do not rest for me.
And i will sew a  t h o u s a n d dolls only to bring to me your last lilac smile,
Yet only you whisper those ever dreaded words.
“Ars longa, vita brevis”
So i can fake a dandy laugh
At least I can give you that.
Oh! The last of my fears lie stainless and dormant, with the tears that would stain your neck
Yet “ad astra aspera”
And no matter how much your body will crack your sage blue lips, forever you'll be with your coal black eyes until our lullabye turns to a cry.
So I shall wait with deprived rest.
Dripping heads,
Frozen fingers,
P u r p l e l i p s!!
All the singing monitors and drippings bags turn pale and silent next to what your hands had told me by nightfall, oh baby hold me before i sleep despite all the holes in my feet. With faces and fingers that drip with salt
With jarring moans that echo not but
L I V E!!
And oh if it could be that these four walls could speak. They would stay in such mournful silence for all the death that they've been borne to hold.
OH! So I weep for these four battered walls!!
And i can still hear your cursed breaths jumping through the halls
And every single inhale delves in fear of being last.
I wonder if darling witch breath will halt to an end.
And dancing darling to your deathbed, I ask that slowly witch you dread.
For what are to be letters you'll sing when at last you are to end.
Then you breathe my name! You hold my hand and oh!!how it feels until i look at you with melting zeal!
...to see I was your last.

For darling, now that you are dead.
Poem. Boom. Ur welcome
Lavender Menace Feb 2020
Hi, I'm really lonely and kinda sad...again. and I really miss you... again. Wow, jeeze I sound so desperate for attention I wish I had attention. I wish I wasn't so lonely all the time. Did you leave me? Did you finally decide the best way to get rid of me was to ignore me all together?Did you finally get out of the pit and decided to walk away and leave me all alone with no way of coming out of the pit myself? I'm all alone now. Staring at the spot you used to sit shamelessly wishing you were there. We're you ever there tho? Did you ever love me? Or was it just another game? Is that why you left? Because I became boring? Were you lying every single time? It broke me you know, tore me to shreds, do you know what the worst part is? I have hope. False hope that I gave myself.
"Remember when we carved are name in the stars, it was special. I hope you feel that way too" cute, huh? It's probably for another girl, another game, another dream. I'm dramatic, I'm in love, without you, it kinda *****. I wish more than anything that you would call me right now. Or text. Or email. Or signal. Or write. Summon? But you won't. Because your gone. You left and I have to deal with it, you got over me and I sat there helping you leave It's so funny to me how you would always try so hard to get out of love, I would help you but you never noticed that I was still there I just stayed there and would not move I still don't want to get out of love with you because once im out it's only a matter of time before I fall in love with someone else and my heart gets broken again, I can handle a little bit of pain and lonelyness and heartache and everything that comes with it but I really can't handle more hope and more love and then losing it again just like that. Being hopeless is the best way to stay okay
its still not poetry but now im brave enough to put it in the public section of hello poetry
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