Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
R Tolliday Oct 13
From the black sky, rain starts falling down
Makes my emotions softly settle down

In thorny path, I’m crawling…
Saying to myself, not to fall apart
To search for what I’ve never seen

No one knows what’s waiting ahead of life
Hopes and fears, take my conscience out

In thorny path, I’m crawling…
Saying to myself, not to fall apart
To search for what I’ve never seen

Saying to myself, not to fall apart…
midnight and i'm still here
tapping out words in the hope
that i'll write something worthy
of reading.

the instructions aren't clear:
am i supposed to sleep
or work on word therapy

i don't care now
just turn on tiktok
and i'll slip into my beloved
mind coma
Clay Face Nov 2020
The one who’s behind you is the one you love.
Something else calls you’re name, tickles your ear.
But what happened to the intuition of what was and is so true?
Ticks on your shoulders, did they wait for you?
Left you in corruption, an unsound view.

The trade is so strong, kills your brawn but what can you do? The pain never ends, when no one wins, you can only die in this life. The paper god on your tongue melts you into glue.

It’s agonizing as you bind the world.
Nothing splits you but your pulled by all.
Reality stretches your skin, your mind loses sight and you’re paranoid. It will never end.

And it never ends
And it never ends
And it never ends

A woman evolves from the colors on the wall.
Strange and hairy, lament grows as her fur.
Scintillating messages of life and death they call.
Who am I, and who are you?
I’m speaking in tenses contradictory to a single point of view.
I can hear her scream, as she shaves her pits.
So beautiful it serenades my mind and scars my eyes.

I’ll never have her, and she dissolves into the bars of this cell again. I’m coming down or I’m blasting off, so hard to tell when god digests so well. Release my mind. It will never end.

And it never ends
And it never ends
And it never ends

Pierced skin, stained skin, ripped skin, all over her.
She’s broken and odd, but so close to me, I can’t help but connect.
The cover of her book is blank and new.
Pages are torn and ******, nothing to awe but still novel inside.

It drains me as it’s end never finds an end.
I can’t belong here when I’m rinsed of life and I dry as glue.
Bound and confound I can’t decide what voice to choose.
You’re on the right and I’m on the left, in the middle is me and we are you.
The nurse draws a bath and I am rinsed.
Drooling in comatose they wipe your lip.
Who new god had a price and came in a sheet.
That little square is the key to become like me.
So free from what’s contrived when you can’t decide the difference in truth.

The days go by and the years turn to seconds.
The nurse whispers in our ear, your mother is here and we start to cry. She holds our hand.
And it ends.

And it ends
And it ends

It ends.
TIZZOP Nov 2019
a daughter
named seble
seven years old

being in a coma

she couldn't hear her
daddy's words

she couldn't see him
fog in front of her eyes
covering differences of
sleep and wakefulness

oneday seble's father
who was desparate
put headphones
on seble's ears

lyrics from two tall germans
they are called the
"wildecker herzbuben"

"herz" means heart and a
"bube" is a boy

closed eyes
slowly breathing

seble's father is called
rapidly breathing

brhane was pressing play
and after seconds
among lurid lights

moved her head
seble closed eyes smiled
as the wildecker herzbuben sang:

"Ein letztes Glas'l mit alten Freunden
die geh'n allein nach Haus.
In den Straßen
in den Gassen
geh'n langsam die Lichter aus."

a last drink with my buddies
who go home alone
in the streets
in the alleys
the lights are vanishing

seble moved her head
no windows but
her daddy was there

sebles mother is not alive
brhane prayed
holding his daughter's hand

seble opened one eye
looking at brhane

seble came back to reality when
brhan had finished his talk to

the end of seble's and brhane's
story is wordless
Psychostasis Oct 2019
Mom called.
She said something happened at your friends.
She said, the result of whatever cataclysm took place there, left you asleep.
You still haven't woken up.

Not fully.

You've moved your hand a couple of times, and your eyes but
They say you're still fighting your way out of it.

I know your mom died.
You're probably dreaming dreams of being with her now, dancing in your living room
On a warm summer night, without a care in the world.
I need you to know that it's okay to be tired.
I'm tired, too.
My eyes all yearn to shut and stay shut till my soul can rest.
Sleep as much as you'd like,
And rest.
But please, do wake up soon.
I don't want you to become enchanted by the world you're staying in
And end up becoming a permanent resident of the Dreamland destined for Lost souls.
neth jones Oct 2019
drown by the lake pier

i fish to sleep forever

never wash ashore
self semi plagiarized
Anti Haiku
Alexa Apr 2019
out there
doesn't have a mom.

You say "Everyone has a mom".
Well, get this.

Someone's mother
was born in the 70's,
with bipolar disorder.
Quite the disaster.
This was before
people knew how to address
things like that,
so instead it was
hidden away.

Someone's mother
turned to drugs
to make herself feel okay
but it didn't really turn out that way.
By the time she was 22
she had two daughters,
but no source of stability.

Someone's mother
overdosed one (two? three?)too many times
and got arrested for
possession of illegal drugs.

Someone's mother
had to sing
"You Are My Sunshine"
with her hand up to glass,
instead of with her hand
in her daughter's.

forgot to give their mother
one last hug

Someone's mother's
last OD
resulted in laying
on a couch for
three days.
Someone's mother
went into
a coma.

was told
to say goodbye
to her mother,
and said
"She can't hear me.
Why should I say goodbye
if she can't hear me?"

was without a mother
at 11 years old.

had a sister that stole
*** from her mother.

grew up
not really knowing
what was going on.

out there
doesn't have a mom.
This poem is my science teacher's story. "Someone" is my science teacher. I wrote this poem to help gain the perspective that I have. That not every child grows up in the loving home that they deserve to grow up in. But you kind of need to hear the story in person, surrounded by a class of crying people to feel it.
Mya Apr 2019
In the mists of all the thunder and lighting
I made a decision
to strengthen my bond with my dad
before its too late
I do not want to die not knowing that my parents
truly love me
because for some time
I felt like no one loved me
people may like me but never love
and the fact that I was never able to accept any love
left me emotionally in a coma
I did not know how to react to things that most people would
and I still dont
I am willing to learn how to
but I am still afraid
I know that writing this probably means nothing to other people
but to me, it is going to be like a written contract to myself
to make new moments happen
PYG's Whisper Apr 2019
I’ve been needing your lies
I’ve been craving your poison
I’ve been missing your demons
I’ve been loving your hater
While I was playing with death
While it was ******* me upside down
While I was freezing face to hell
I’ve been moaning your name
When my hands were trembling
When my soul was jumping
When my veins were twisting
I howled your April’s farewell
Once Azrael was invited
And the sky was open
Then my mind got naked
Your shadow was my only Savior
My voice was resonating
But from your ears was forbidden
My snow capped depth was on the summit of its alp
Pleading you to be its shield
That’s when you threw it into a dark swamp
Claiming that you were lost in a blinded place
Everything was mute and your bones were broke
But I saw you secretly radiating in a crystal ball
You thought I’m nowhere nearer
Was it amusing to fool a downcast lifer?
You were pushing my destiny to its sharp ending chapter
Below the belts freedom was dedicated to a shrewd sinner
Meanwhile I’ve been taken to where nothing left to catch
Failures over the time of my rotten life have built my forgotten grave
Gloomy butterflies surrounded my sick grove
No flowers to bloom no hope to ****
No words to draw no feelings to touch
No time to rush no remorse to scratch
The door of paradise was barely visible
But the clouds drove me to a fiery jungle
I begged life to be my sucker
One last elegiac parting with winter
But death was an invincible fighter
Loneliness was feeding my blur future
Chiselling out my anxiety within four blank walls
Then stirred up a wild storm of toxic fears
Moving on was the synonym of stuck in a rut
A sterile heart gave up on its darned patience
Charcoaled love erased its existence
Dry tears chained to these anorexic cheeks
You shutdown the light you once heated up
Now I’m sober yet drunk on my coma
Trying to perforate your karma
While cleaning up my ugly Fantasia.
Where I was your moon and you were my star
As a poet, I believe that my voice needs to be heard and my experiences need to be written, I used to write about the **** THEY went through, I used to care about THEM, I used to put THEM first and me last, I used to spend endless sleepless nights trying to comfort THEM, write for THEM, slam for THEM. but I never listened to myself, I never dared to say no to THEM in order to protect ME, that's why and how I ended up stuck in a wild war between LIFE AND DEATH. Where only ME left behind while THEY all escaped and enjoyed their victory 'cause simply they ****** all my energy and I wasn't a needy anymore. So I got lost and anxiety took advantage of me.
Many fans betrayed me, and made up stories about me just ‘because I wasn’t available to hear THEIR stories, to wipe THEIR tears and to be THEIR voice of hope, too many FAKE FRIENDS AND LOVERS finally got caught up and THEY shamelessly exposed their true nature and loneliness kept me company.
This poem is all about ME, is all about my battle with my illness last year, it was a result of many years of ups and down, many years of sadness, mental breakdown and depression, nothing is clear nothing is the same anymore and I don't know where am I going from here, the only reality that I can't cover up or deny is the fact that I’m still alive… miraculously..
I don't have anything else to say, I’ll let my poem talk about my biggest disappointments...
Thanks for everyone who still loves and supports PYG's Whisper, I came back 'cause of your prayers and yearnings, thanks for everything.
I can’t promise that I’ll come back the same, a part of me is already dead but I’ll let my pen mess with all the criminals who killed my vibe.
-PYG's Whisper
Arden Mar 2019
I know how many stories is tall enough
I know how much Windex I have to drink
I know long I have to be alone in order to hang myself
I know where to cut
I know how many pills I have to swallow

So you ask how come I keep trying and keep failing
Listen you have no idea how ****** windex tastes
Listen I can't get to the roof of the buildings
Listen All the pills are in a safe
I do everything wrong
I can't even die correctly

But I don’t want to **** myself anyway  
My uncle shot himself
And I watched my grandmother lose a son
I watched my dad lose his best friend
I have seen what it does to people and
I have felt that feeling

I don’t want to **** myself
I just want to be in a coma
Next page