Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Pauline Morris Apr 2016
Go ahead and drink your hateraid
There is not one **** to be gave
All the hateful things you thought was said
Was only the voices in your head

You turn every word upside down
As a victim you want to be crowned
But we are the victim of your thoughts
In your mind it all gets tossed

The helping hand that we extend
Gets lost as your minds bends
Everything ment for good into black
Till the bridge is in flames, no going back

As you scream out your sarcasm
It only makes to widen the chasm
Then you cry "I have no friends"
You play the victim to the end

So burn your bridges, blow them up
Just don't come yapping at me like a little pup
Maybe one day you'll act grownup
Before someone makes you drink from your own cup
Cat Fiske Mar 2016
Almost jumped off that bridge,
sadly I wish I did.

instead I found some relief in *** cigs,
and used to help me forget,

I held my breath to calm down,
until tomorrow came around.
been mylife the last 2 months.
Seth Milliman Mar 2016
Forgotten on a bridge,
Left behind in all this whirl.
You'd think it would never end,
But it is like a flag still left unfurled.
No longer can it be said or seen,
That the too few who know.
Now don't know what I mean,
And now with this a sad song.
Why can't we all just get along?
Echoes Of A Mind Mar 2016
Let's keep it a secret
Let's not tell anyone
Let's delete the proofs
Let the memories be gone

Let the scars be healed
Let the time pass
Let the letter be sealed
Let it all be in the past

Let's not make it weird
Let's not burn the bridge
Let's not fall apart
Because of a secret
Secrets...
Maple Mathers Feb 2016
when I come to it.
(All poems original Copyright of Eva Denali Will © 2015, 2016)
Silence Screamz Feb 2016
Gray dove I see you
You fly most graciously
Floating in the clouds
with the slow wind

My toes over the edge
Curled up in my shoes
Fingers grip the rail
White knuckled and tense

I glance in your direction
Your wings sweep the sky
Back and forth
You glide with a purpose

Sweat drips from my brow
Frozen with a moment of time
I hear every sound of nature
Leaning forward, head tilted down

Purr gray dove, come my way
Alone and free
Flying circles around me
Rest when you can

I see the water below
Crashing against the shore
My heart beats rapidly
Knees are buckling from the strain

You are my friend
As I see why you fly
Coming my way
I start to smile

Can not catch my breathe
I close my eyes tight
Deep in sadness, I wonder
No looking back

Here you come
ending your flight
My shoulder is your resting spot
Balance completely lost

No more grip
I begin to fall
Quick descent rushes by
Eyes wide open

Gray dove flies again
I hit the water with a thud
One last scene as I see you
Pushed to my death by the little gray dove
Latifah A Feb 2016
That night she stood at the bridge

exactly at midnight.



Because she told herself that tonight

was the night.

Tonight was the night

she was going to end it all;

all her pain, suffering.



As soon as the city's clock

strikes the hour,

she was going to

J u m p.



But for a second there,

she thinks she sees her

reflection in the water under her,

but it wasn't her.

It was the broken-hearted

girl she'd always see in the mirror.



Finally, the clock strikes the hour,

she looks up at the clock

it was exactly twelve o'clock;

it was December 14th,

it was her birthday.



She told herself that

she was going to die the

day she was born, and that's

exactly what she was going to do.



It's time

Jump

Go on, do it

Jump

The voices in her head

encourage her.



Salty tears fall out of

her eyes,

she pulls her hair

in frustration,

and lets out a low yell.

"Get out of my head!"



It'll all be over if you jump

Jump

Jump

Jump

The voices get louder and

Louder.



Jump

The voice says one last time,

and this time she listens, *she jumps.
she told herself she was going to die the day she was born.
JR Rhine Mar 2016
Ascent

The narrow passage arched over the gaping river
like a gymnast vaulting backwards,
gracing the ground with open palms.

I began to climb--
beleaguered on both sides
by insecure concrete obstructions;
I diverted my attention to the ascending road ahead.

I continued to climb,
like a slowly chugging roller coaster,
meekly scaling up the track
with subdued anticipation.

I sunk into the road;
the sky merged with my pseudo-perpetual path, forming the offing--
where it seemed the road ran eternally into the heavens.
I saw blue reach into black in the late afternoon's
fading visage.

Summit

Gliding over the mountainous ****,
I stared over the horizon
where the sun was neatly tucked
under the trees--
silhouetted against the dusky sky,
looking like fingers reaching up into the void,
accumulating like earthly pillows to a heavenly face glowing brightly.

I watched a murky blue dip into a wet grass'd green,
then a traffic cone orange,
followed by the passionate (infra)red of two lovers' entwined,
climaxing in a jaundiced yellow--
tucked neatly like a layer of film
atop the silhouetted landscape.

Descent**

I wished I had
descended the adret
of my ascension's perceived perpetual offing,
rather than this gritty one--
to dip into the horizon,
where I would metamorphose
into a dazzling array of colors;

feeling myself slowly fade away
into the impending night sky.

Tucked away for another day,
sleeping under the stars,
in the fingertipped forests
now obliquely reaching into their absent luminescence
but relishing the cool night air--
silently waiting for light
to soon again
breach their gloomy shells.

[Enlightenment lingered within the visions of my ascension--
I danced with its transient spirit at the summit--
to be decimated as the car lurched downward into mortality.

I saw what could be as I moaned into the
fading afternoon's dipping colors.

Who knew the descent was the hardest part of humanity?]
Solomon's Island, Southern Maryland.
nobody Feb 2016
If you can be poor with someone, you are rich.
If your well is dry, you are the bridge.
If you can go with them with nothing, you are something.
If together you chase your true calling, you can stop running.

-Gloraeanna
My husband and I don't have much money anymore, but somehow it has made us closer. I guess our struggle is the same so we know eachothers pain. No matter what we don't have we will always have eachother. That's all that matters...anymore.
Next page