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I* will die your daughter,
I will eventually be gone,
you might laugh, or cry tears,
you will wake up at dawn,
and find that your worst fears,
have inevitably come to life.

I will die your daughter.
Convinced I'm destined to decease,
as your daughter, not my own lead,
you'll be glad to finally have your peace,
The tear-stained letter? That's all you need.

I will die your daughter,
I won't run from my problems,
I won't fight them back either,
I won't rise to stardom,
This is my last breather.

I will die your daughter,
You may love me as your family,
but you don't love me as a person.
Knowing that hurts much more frantically,
as you don't even notice when I worsen.

I will die your daughter,
I have your blood bestowed upon,
But you've never considered me as one,
I don't want you to care when I'm gone,
Just go out and forget about me, have fun.

At the end of the day, it's not beneath you,
and trust me, it hurts me too.
But please remember me anyway,
even though you're the reason I couldn't stay.
I feel like this poem will resonate with many, depending on how deep you look into it (; It's the same as real life, the deeper you look into a person the more you understand their actions, and why they do/did what they do/did. I particularly like the enfasis on "I will die your daughter." because it just.. wow. 😢
Esme 7d
I lay out in front of me a coffee cup,
Ceramic and cold ,warming with the lukewarm poison,
Why when you warn me off the threat,
Do i down the cup just to feel the warmth crystalise in my veins,
The sigh of relief mixes with the pungent stink of life haunting me,
Why am I not happy?
My pain was meant to be gone ,yet my heart still beats
And still beats for you ,
Why do i still go for coffee when coated with cyanide
The suffering i enjoy the excitement kick starts my heart
When all i wanted for it to stop,
And yet it still beats
And still beats for you
for my suicidal thoughts in the back of my mind
Arpitha Sep 16
The comfort of sadness
falls short
only to the comfort found
in a mother's lap.
There is not a firm step in Autumn.
The snowfall of bright falling leaves
invites me to dream as I rake
them into blankets for winter’s nursery.

The anger I so often carry in my steps
surrenders to the sleepy hours of shorter days,
the gentle voice of house slippers whispering
across my bedroom floor.

This year of sterile rooms and moans
quietly disappears into the mist
of kinder memories, hot chocolate mornings
that speak you don’t have to hurry now.

So many believe it is a new year that commands
resolutions, new beginnings, but it is when
trees explode into their confetti last hurrah
I begin to feel the first flutter of new wings.
I love Autumn. I have since I was a child growing up in a tiny house surrounded by woods. I’ve spent so many years in sterile halls. It’s nature that comforts me like a prayer.
K Letters Sep 10
What if this is my deathbed?

Surrounded by collected parchment

From old to new

Smell of burnt tobacco and aged paper

Toxins in the air you breath into

“Yesterday” by the Beatles playing in the background

A woman talking to about her husbands affair with the store owner

Reading poetry on the old wooden floor
I wrote this poem during a period of sadness. It’s about the warm comfort I found in a bookstore. The mix scent of paper and tobacco was like a huge hug to the soul. The background chatter and music was very soothing, and I wished to just sit on the floor and read forever. Thank you for reading.
Ali Hassan Sep 7
My Kitty claims my heart and soul,
Her love a fire that makes me whole.

She curls beside me, soft and bright,
A gentle flame that warms the night.

Her eyes like moons that glow and gleam,
Reflecting all my secret dream.

She purrs, she teases, sweet and near,
Her tender touch dissolves all fear.

With every hug and gentle sigh,
She lifts my heart where love can fly.

No hand but hers can touch my soul,
No eyes but hers can see me whole.

She kneads my chest with tiny paws,
A playful queen without a cause.

She nips, she squeezes, holding tight,
Her playful grip feels just so right.

With tiny bites she comes so near,
A playful hunger so bright and clear.

Her tiny paws, a gentle claw,
Remind me love has playful law.

She mews, she chirps, a flirtful sound,
Her playful sound is all around.

She owns my night, she owns my day,
No gaze can steal her love away.

Forever hers, my heart is bound,
In Kitty’s love, my joy is found.

With you, love lights my every day,
My heart alight in endless ways.

So stay, my Kitty, by my side,
For you alone are my heart’s true guide.
neth jones Sep 23
.
got to save up to earn a slower death
a more palatable   and rewarding one
medically attended
               cribbed comfy
'won't you cheer me on to the afterlife ?'
.
got to pave my way to a dosing oblivion
whilst my bowls void into clear bags        
with measure marks down the sides
and my muscles lack and sag            
and distress is stretched
                      for all those who may dare pay me a visit
'won't you cheer me on to the afterlife ?'
.
gotta have that great white death    
gotta have clean    clean paperwork
by the book   shuffle off .. no ..
drip off.. good to the last drop
                                        rattle breath and plop
'here's to the afterlife'
.
22/07/25 original version / few changes made
Zywa Sep 1
The music of Bach

is grief comforting people --


with touching beauty.
Collection "Silent walk"
Soph Aug 24
See the world
with different eyes,
take you hands
"It'll be alright".

You seem so lost,
in this dark room.
Let me be your light,
I'll guide you outside.

I know your view,
how you think about you.
In a world full of hate,
let me tell you
you are great.

Will you let me?
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