Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Banana Mar 24
I'm scared that 'becoming' who I am is just an acceptance of realities others have created. Maybe the older we get the more entrenched we become in what we perceive to be the truth; the more we experience of our tiny existence, the more we believe in it.
"The way of life we live, a life we have never really chosen, forces us to walk past what we see."
MuseumofSoph Feb 11
Wandering in and out of what could be

I used to fear a missed opportunity

Now I’m thankful for what I lost
Despite the pain,
I grew into who I am.
The Noose Jan 28
I know you when you delicately stitch the fragments of your unbecoming
When everyone else is reaching is reaching for the sun
I know you when you ache to swallow it
When you rip through yourself
Searching for the skeleton key
That will quieten the longing
The cure
Vague, elusive
I know you when your love is sacrificial, ******, clingy but real.
written in March 2018
internetgirl Dec 2021
seven freckles
stretched across the expanse
of a mystery
when the wind would pick up
she would dance with her shadow
and her twirling reminded the moon of its celestial duties
she held the milky ways in her lungs
and the stars in her eyes
and every day as the sun bid farewell
long, dark, outstretched arms awaited her
a receding tide of centuries of patience
of forgetting
of rewriting
she asked herself often
if she was born for this world
or if it was born for her
as leaves simpered at the brief graze of her skin
and nebulas spilled from her fingertips
tellurian: of or inhabiting the earth
Nisha Oct 2021
At peace with my demons
Free from temptations
Finally awakened
Never forsaken by the God that created me

Thinking about what the future holds for me
Healthy as I can be
Manifesting who I aspire to be
●-●
Just short and simple ♡
L May 2021
I think about what it would do to her. To call her: god. Divine majesty.
Do not be afraid she says.
And how we must be reminded every time...

When these creatures undress before us, and their form is an arrow sleeping in our gut. Our insides wrenching again and again each time we look. The more you worship, the more pain you know. Terror resides in the beauty of their form- a body we cannot understand. A body that is never wrong.
And oh, how we can’t help but look.

I look.

For me, the moon is full and hanging behind my eyes.
The wrenching and the writhing
The moaning and pain
It is sublime, unbearable transformation.
Transmutable worship, transmutable horror-- Nourishment for a thing caught in its becoming.

You caught me in my becoming.

I am the dragon and the maiden it keeps.
I am the mouth and the hand reaching inside it.
Darkness and light begin to blur.  
         𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐝.
𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠.​​​​
Sarah Flynn May 2021
I say that I am uncomfortable
being around a strange man.
they call me a ***** and say,
"don't you know that it's not all men?"

I am drugged and assaulted by
a man who I thought that
I could trust. they say,
"you should've known better."

they say that my scars are ugly.
they say "you should hide those!"

but when I cover them up, they say
"women shouldn't have tattoos.
why did you ruin your body?"

I wear shorts and they say,
"what a *****! those are too short."

I put on long jeans and they say,
"what a *****! you're no fun."

I care too much about
their opinions and they say,
"you're too insecure! stop caring!"

I stop caring and they hate that
they can no longer control me.

you can't win, darling.
they will always hate you
for one thing or another.
at least let them hate you
for being too real.

be you.
life is too short
to fake being
anyone else.
selina May 2021
bravery on my fingers
freedom starred across my collar
honesty sinking into my chest

these words inked into my skin
reminders of who i was, who i am
who i hope that i will become

you need to understand
haikus are not bound by syllables
just stanzas of three lines

life is not bound
by the number of pages
ink bleeds past the edges
Ylzm Apr 2021
we each walk our paths, many did not find theirs
rushing here and there, heeding voices and examples
the company of others comforting but void
and without you becoming the whole is marred
Michael Mar 2021
Eyes to the Heart.
What I see is burnt.
What I think is heard.
What I know is learnt.
Next page