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Rubyredheart Jun 17
Cold rain-showers flood the winters here.
I’ve felt bubbling cool waterfalls
touch the senses like
ruby red ***** shots shared.
Cool waterfalls, winter rain showers, sensual shots
all remind…
like
the warm shower just now—long, sensual
Pleasure
I find
Myself
finally at peace with the water
(when fibers grip as muscles pulse
and water falls)
a heart throb? or break? so close . . .
both leave me gasping for life-giving breath
This water reminds…
If only to find
another guilty shot shared with you.
rather I’m
missing peace?
Am I pretending?
Where is life without a heart?
(pulsing muscle fibers of life)
where is my heart?
where is the missing piece?
Am I Really at peace with the water?
I am more now, at least,
than I was at 23
Published 30th Nov 2021 | Edited 1st Mar 2025 | Edited June 16, 2025
What Is Truth?

A mirror,
cracked in your own hands.
Each shard shows a different face —
and all of them are you.

You ask,
“Is this the truth?”
But the mirror never answers —
it only reflects
what you’re willing to see.



So keep asking.
Keep breaking mirrors.
Truth isn’t something you find —
it’s something you become.
Written as a Luziferian echo of Socratic doubt. Truth is not a destination, it’s a confrontation — a rebellion against illusions. This is for those who dare to break mirrors and question what they see
Ali Hassan May 18
I raised a black flag high with pride,
A banner bold I could not hide.
It screamed of strength, of “I won’t fall,”
Of standing firm, of having it all.

It waved through storms I would not flee,
A symbol carved with “only me.”
I bore it like a soldier’s crown
But oh, how silently I drowned.

Each triumph inked in darkest thread,
Each vow I kept while dreams bled red.
I thought this flag would make me whole,
But bit by bit, it cost my soul.

Then came a moment, still and bare,
No crowd to please, no need to dare.
I dropped my fists. My knees grew weak.
And for the first time, I let peace speak.

A white flag trembled in my hand
So soft, so plain, I couldn’t stand
To think this could be strength at all…
But it was strength to stop the fall.

I raised it slow, unsure, ashamed
Expecting loss, expecting blame
But as it rose, I saw it shift
This white was black, the truest gift.

Not stained in rage or empty gain,
But marked with mercy, healed by pain.
It bore no name, it screamed no “I”
Yet in its silence, I could fly.

And then I knew—how blind I’d been,
The black I held was never kin.
It led me through a thousand fights
But never taught me wrong from right.

This white flag wasn’t giving in
It was the start of truth within.
And every thread once dyed in shame
Now stitched a soul that chose to change.

So here I stand, no flags held high,
Just open hands beneath the sky.
Not conquered no, but born anew,
Freed from chains I once thought true.

That white I feared to lift in shame
Became a fierce and quiet flame.
The black I chased a mere disguise,
This white revealed my truest rise.

Its threads now stained with all I’ve braved,
A banner raised, not lost but saved.
This is the black I now embrace
Born pure, reborn through time and grace.
Zelda Jul 4
Silence-spilled rooms,
and red high-high-heeled shoes
Shadows blooming in forgotten perfumes.
Curtains drifting like whispered thoughts,
she lies on a bed
watching morning break her—
dreams...
and unwelcome guests in her head...

Oh, darling—
there's no time for excuses,
flashbacks.
Something special in a hush.
There's no reason to ask for anything more...
Between Breathes.

Plastic tips tap-tap harsh on icy floors,
empty kitchen,
undone button-up shirt.
Her skin is exposed to the poetry.
The Art must suffer.
Be careful
not to let it leave a mark.

watch every fall from grace—
and she meets herself.

She is the moment just before,
a soft repose,
a breath withheld,
a breath set free.

She is
Between Breathes—
and she meets herself.

Oh darling—
there's no time...
Between Breathes—
and she meets herself.

Gasp.
July 1 2015
I don’t need a throne in the sky —
I am the temple.
I am the storm.
I am the question and the answer.

You kneel to gods who burn books.
I write them.

You build churches.
I burn illusions.

You ask forgiveness.
I demand truth.

You fear the devil.
I had dinner with him.
He said:
“They fear me because I offer freedom.”

And I said:
“Then let them stay chained.
I’m done speaking softly.”

So now I speak fire.
I speak rebellion.

Not because I hate god —
but because I won’t kneel
to any god
who asks me
to hate myself.
Kim Yu Jun 29
You have come down with the storm
Splashed and spread across the Earth
Merging with the mud to take form
In this amalgamation, you took your first breath.

You have since assumed the affairs of the mud-form you’ve chosen
Entrapped by the aspiration of fulfilling the duties that come with it
And limited within the terrain in which it is soaked in
Wholly bewildered in a dimension you cannot outwit

O Raindrop, soon the sun will rise and the mud will dry
With all the illusions you’ve acquired in this long night
Wither away with the mud or evaporate back into the sky?
Will you perish into sand or re-immerse yourself with the infinite?
Your soul as the raindrop and your body represented by the mud.
Cadmus Jun 22
☔️

The depressed one is not sick,
nor broken,
nor lost to some disorder.

He simply saw the world,
its truths laid bare,
its people unmasked,
and found no beauty
in the ruin beneath.

It wasn’t madness that took him,
but clarity.

And the weight
of so much ugliness
he could not unsee.

☔️
Sometimes, what breaks a person is not confusion, but understanding.
Beat
(still)
Beat
(still)
Listen—
Can you hear it?
Life.
From nothing.

Pause—
sit
within
the
emptiness.

Let
it
become
the
bea­t
and
the
(still)

Eyes, wide with wonder.
A heart beats
to the rhythm
of tiny,
pitter-patter feet.

Beat
(still)
Beat
(still)
Listen—
Can you hear it?
Life.
From everything.
From breath. From pause. From presence. This is what I heard.
Day
I will dress you day
in a golden light
with your
chipping of birds
and Trafic picking up speed
I will dress you
in your bare nakedness
cold feet and warm tender skin
I will dress you in anticipation
when now I feel you so near
That your love will pass through me
And into you
day
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