Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I should have left.
That first moment,
when my heart convulsed.

But i was stubborn,
I didn’t.
I stayed.
I had to know.
I had to risk it.

The body knows,
before the mind does.

Some truths whisper first,
shatter later.
Some warnings come not as words but as aches, sharp, sudden, undeniable. Yet the human spirit, ever stubborn, often chooses pain over the unknown. This is a confession of that choice.
Always the lover,
Never the loved.
Always the healer,
Never the healed.
Always the photographer,
Never the photographed.
Always the helper,
Never the helped.
Always the cheerer,
Never the cheered.
Always the painter,
Never the painting.
Always the poet,
Never the poem.
Always the option,
Never the priority.
Always the lister,
Never the heard.
Always the writer,
Never the muse.
Always the understanding,
Never the understood.
Is it only me?
Everly Rush May 2
It bends without mercy,
its wire thin, but sharp,
not made to hold fabric,
but to hold something that slips.

It waits, silent in the corner,
its curve a question in the dark—
a pull too strong,
but too quiet to hear.

In its grasp, there is no escape,
only the hollow sound of something breaking.
irene ci Apr 26
i hate the process of getting to know each other,
if you loved me
you would know
that you want to be with me.
you are simply playing,
playing with the choices.
i’m not a option,
i am free.
Pouya Apr 24
You choose silence,
When you can express,
But every minute,
You can put off the talk,
You can engage in,
That's a kind of freedom.
Carter Naff Apr 18
I image myself widowed now
No love or affection shoots to me
No quick merits of wittiness fall to me
Only a shadow creeps these empty halls

A showy prize once polished now collects dust
As the shadow searches for something else to ignore
The shadow hides themselves in a fog like a blanket and disappears behind it

Sometimes I hear the call of a pearly dove outside a window
Beckoning for me to release my own wings and fly free with it
I have to tell the bird otherwise saying,” I have my own freedom here to love, a ring”
My freedom feels heavy on my wing

The dove lays dead on my porch attacked by some creature
Silly dove, to chase after uncertain dreams
Wouldn’t it be better to live captured but see?
The dove doesn’t respond and neither does the shadow

I place the dove in a shoebox and leave him in my closet with my ring
I decide it’s better to reflect and choose than to be uncertain or see
Reece Apr 13
As we walked through the wood,
I found myself oddly stood,
Amidst my peers and fellow friends,
As we searched to find an end,
For we believed we could.

There was a fork in the road,
Two paths diverged, their end unknown.
My peers and friends took the right,
While I stood, paralyzed in fright,
Not knowing where to go.

As they walked down their trail,
I hoped and prayed that they’d prevail,
But feeling called to look around,
I focused on the ground,
And studied, and eventaully prevailed.

The one to the left,
Had been more unkempt.
The right was more ideal,
Even though they hurt their heels,
They charged forward without regret.

However, deep in my soul,
I felt called, the origin unknown,
To walk the path that no one dared,
Not necessarily because they were scared,
But because the right had been controlled.

So, gathering my wits,
I took a step, with no intention to quit,
And walked down the path to my left,
A warm feeling spreading in my chest,
A sense of pride, I must admit.

The road I travel on,
Not many dare to step upon,
But those who do are,
Chosen by the stars,
To walk the road I travel on.
A shorter, not-so-subtle nod toward "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost.
Debbie Apr 11
What if you were given the choice of living
an alternate reality?
In a strange forest, a labyrinth of bark doors.
A life where your dreams are radiant diamonds seen.  
Would problems crumble like twigs upon the forest floor?
Or does always exist a veil of unimagined terror's sheen.  
A false peace.
Some memories refuse to easily fade, would thoughts
from the life you abandoned, permissionless, invade.  
You will exist extremely haunted by
your unfulfilled deeds and unplanted seeds.

Make the life you already have hold meaning.
Live the days you are given
with the lustre of someone actually
abandonlessly living.
The wind was lust that day.
Change lies within the morning rays.  
Be who you are
In the life you have chose to stay.
When love knocks,
it’s not from the deadbeat of your pain-stricken heart,
nor the dread of laughter you dare not experience.
It does not come from the agony of the past.

When love visits,
it comes like a wave of fresh air
a relief from your previous anguish.
Love arrives and consumes you whole.
Ready or not, you’ll feel it deep in your bones.

You’ll feel the goosebumps
and this time, not from your anxiety,
but as a gentle reminder telling you to breathe.

When it finally arrives,
it engloves you in a garden.
It waters your dying soul
until it blooms into a canvas of colorful flowers.

And this time,
love comes with certainty
no second-guessing,
just reassurance in its fullest form.

When love knocks,
I pray you’re able to see it.
no longer waiting,
no longer biased
just you,
allowing yourself to fall under its gaze.

When love visits,
I pray you’re prepared for it.
It won’t ask if you are ready. It will enter, wrap you in light, and whisper: breathe.
Hawley Anne Apr 8
I wonder if I could be blamed
for what my choice might be.
Between a man and a bear
and which one I would think may fight fair.

See I'm not to sure I'd need to give it much thought,
I think I'd choose the bear.
Because at least I'd know what came next,
no one expects a bear to fight fair.

A bear would not lie to me,
or first make me fall in love.
And bear would not get me wondering if I were truly nuts.

A bear might rip me limb from limb
but at least when it was done
The bear would not sit there and claim,
that he had done it out of love.

And the bear would not apologize then do it all again.
A bear would never hurt me by hooking up with my friend.

A bear wouldn't lie to me about the intentions that it had.
And a bear wouldn't call me crazy, anytime it made me mad.

The bear would probably **** me yes.
But at least then it would be done.
I wouldn't have to live with the pain, of what the bear had done.

The bear wouldn't play games with my mind.
It would either **** me or not.
But if I were to choose the man,
well I'd be better off to not.

Cuz a bear wouldn't do any of those things,
that I just described.
But I've been with the man who did them,
and it left me barely alive.
Next page