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Levi Windolf Oct 2018
“I bet she’s good in bed”;
That’s what they said.
As she walked past alone;
On her way home.
From her job at the bar;
Where every guy;
Near and far.
Seems to think it’s okay;
To grab her all day.

When she gets home;
The messages she reads.
The pictures she’s sent;
“you’d look good on your knees’.
On the bus to the shops;
On this guy hops.
Stand right beside her;
Like a tall lanky spider.
Brushes her top;
Just as the bus stops.

She just wants to live;
She just wants to breath.
Without having these men;
Cling on like disease.
She just wants to be;
She just wants to see.
What it’s like for a day;
To come what may.

Without the glance of a man;
Without that penetrating gaze.
She just wants to go home;
Without running a maze.
But that’s not how it is;
It’s really not fair.
She knows that each day;
Each hour, each minute.
Could be her last second;
So why even begin it?

You see what you’ve done?
With your lustful ‘fun’.
You’ve told her she’s meat;
Just there for you in heat.
And like meat to slaughter;
A father loses his daughter.
Well done son;
You’ve had your fun.
Harri Oct 2018
They say demons should be
                                                               exorcised
They say in the dark lurks
                                                               evils
They say in your soul 
should be nothing but
                                                               light
That washed out is better 
than chiaroscuro.
They say all these 
                                                               things
But what do they know,
these people who live in the grey?
My muses are demons
My pen is a knife
My life is much
                                                               better
With black ink in my
                                                               veins
I suppose if their minds were to
                                                               open
We'd all be exactly the same;
A world full of demon filled people
With eyes open
                                                               wide
Drawing beauty from shade.
Harri Oct 2018
I’m slipping again.
I can hear them.
Whispered admonishments,
Echo in my head…
Louder and louder,
As I feel fuller and fuller,
All my spaces filled with shadows,
And the demons start to creep,
Clawing up my throat
And through the cuts in my skin.
I can’t control the chaos,
My hands are sliding on the reins,
I wish that I could ask for help,
But they won’t let me.

I don’t recognise the face I see,
Staring from the mirror,
It’s pale,
empty,
An ill-formed shell,
A weak and cracked container
For this maelstrom,
My hell.

They’re scratching at my skin again,
Make it stop, make it stop.
My bones are breaking through again,
Make it stop.
Harri Oct 2018
Smile.
“I’m fine.”
Smile.
“Just tired.”
Smile.
“oh, sorry, I’ve been busy.”
Smile.
Smile.
Smile.

It’s funny,
isn’t it?
How hard it is to tell the difference
between a smile

and a grimace.

It’s funny,
isn’t it?
How people are so willing
to swallow a lie,
If it’s what they want to hear,

And you’re baring your teeth.
Alek Mielnikow Oct 2018
TRIGGER WARNING: CONTENT PERTAINS TO DEPRESSION AND SUICIDE

Little demons bounce around in
your skull, screaming obscenities
and those same old revelations.
All the while, the strange sounds of
"you're fine," "you're nice," "you're not that bad,"
"you’re not evil,” gets replayed out
of their mouths again. As if they
know your sins. That never-ending
winter you are freezing in. If
only they knew, but you’ll never
tell them. You'd die first. And more and
more that looks like the optimal
choice. Your demise a voice for this
injustice, finally putting
down that mad dog robbing all of
them of a peaceful existence.
Why should such a savage exist?
So you can spread your disgusting
penitence with warm and oh so
bold and colorful poetics?
Why not just end it? Instead you
feed it like the coward you are,
the typical evil piece of
**** that rips up hearts and leaves them
to the wolves. And no one knows, and
no one will care, if you are not
the same as you were back then. This
redemption is an illusion
you fool around with to cool your
intemperance, as useless as
your pathetic attempts at some
rehabilitation, and if
you were honest you'd accept that
your suffering is warranted.
So go meet your end, you *******
sick depressing ****, before you
get selfish again and ruin
another beautiful person.
Please make sure you're in a stable position to read this poem, and if you're not in a stable position to read it, don't do the stupid stuff I do and instead call that number that Logic taught you: 1-800-273-8255.

(And please excuse any humor or lightness that I might express about this topic, now or in the future. I'm very, very intimate with it, and by my own experience and what I know of others is that, the closer and deeper you're in it personally the more humor you can both find in it and need from it. Though to each their own.)

Also, I didn't know this as I wrote the poem, but October is National Depression Month, and, in particular, today, October 11th, is National Depression Screening Day. Do yourself a favor and get checked out, especially if you can relate to my writing or share any of the more typical symptoms.
For every mind that's set ablaze
Every hurt beyond expression.

For every Treasure lost to madness,
Every piercing, crippling doubt.

For every priceless Soul,
Who's lost all hope.

Fight like hell, you are beautiful.
#MentalHealthAwarenessDay2018
Aditya Oct 2018
Walking on a lonely Street,
The shimmer of a Floodlight,
Marching to my Heartbeat,
Did I send you an Invite ?

An intriguing Character,
A leader one Moment,
Racing like a Competitor,
Underneath a loyal Servant.

Metamorphosis is your Forte,
A Giant bloating my Ego,
Or a worthless tiny Prey,
Teach me the art of Incognito.

At the break of Dawn,
An awareness Emerged,
A Shadow revealing a Truth Withdrawn,
Enlightenment is Light & Darkness, Merged.
Shadows are the representation of the other half of our lives - The Truth of Darkness.
We are sometimes leaders or competitors and many a times subservient to the demands of society. Our ego is heightened when we are victorious, and diminished during failure, but to possess the ability to suppress it, is a sign of true awareness.
While we seek the light within, it is only with acceptance of darkness, can we truly experience total happiness. Darkness in all its forms is a part of our lives and will continue to be the shadow to remind us of the need for acceptance.
You are the Light when you embrace the Darkness within.
Martin Dove Oct 2018
What do you think, from a personal view
is it fun to live in an old dusty room?
The answer is clear, though we try to forget it
We just don’t want to see it from a different perspective
It’s hard to open the doors and see what is out there
It just shows us so boldly how little we have here.
But to open the doors means more than we know
The world can illuminate with a soft-spoken glow
It’s not all that hard though it might bring you peril
Depression can lurk around every other person.
To be selective or fully collective?
of the things we see and how we connect it
As long as you look for the truth you may find it
Though you may not like what you see and might fight it
This begs for an ending that will blow you away
But I’ll let someone find it in another way
Diction Oct 2018
Dear Artist/
Your art sings to me like a soft kiss/
And as the poetic words are spoken they stop to rest carefully here atop my lips/
Tasting of loneliness/
Something I understand well unfortunately from years of misery/
It regrettably makes up most of my memories/
Every moment I'd spent ready to surrender from the pain I suffered/
Often left to ponder/
Why me/
Does nobody see these scars that bleed/
Upset that so many could leave me with such ease/
Always leaving questions unanswered inside my mind/
Despite all the times I screamed out their names/
Because in the end/
I wasnt worth the compassion let alone the attention/
Feelings of depression/
Thoughts saying Im nothing/
Convinced I deserve this/
Listening to the emptiness echoing in my chest/
I've felt it all myself once before, unable to drown in the liquor anymore/
All I wanted to do was turn up the music and let the silence play through it/
So know your not alone having to deal with everything on your own/
There's always this place where people care about the pain you share/
Wanting to hear things from your joys to things you fear/
Where we love this art we all write/
An the company of another poets insight/
Just remember things get easier/
Cause its always better tomorrow I swear/
So I guess I'll end this letter and see you there/
Yours truly, Diction "****** Glitched" Diers/
Mary Shanti Oct 2018
Kiss me with an awareness
That tongues can’t figure out
Kiss me with a confusion, that spills about
Kiss me with the taste of melted chocolates  that form in our tongues
And then kiss me so hard
We fall in to the  winters lair with molten lava scorching arms
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