Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Naked and so very cold on the floor,
Lost in the volatility of my emotions,
Consumed by the forest of my thoughts.
How I long for the solace of sleep,
If only the medicine would kick in,
Pulsing through my veins for the last
Weary bit of my mania,
Attempting to reduce the heat under my overflowing ***.
Dying feels like a release from this hell,
An in between of too much and not enough.
With a coin in bipolar coffer,
My soul springs free,
But I have already given so much.
I do not travel there,
Near the edge,
For I am so excited by possibilities,
But my chest aches with the sadness of this cycle.
I miss me.
If only I could find her.
Alyssa Oct 2019
she was as cold as the winter
            full of frost and bites on her delicate skin
            always wearing a scarf bearing cold colors
            but she is as intelligent as the raven
            and her potential is to not be underestimated
he was bright as the summer
            a ray of sunshine that his heart has captured
            his eyes as warm as the trees and the earthy soil
            a goofy smile and a cheesy laugh he can hold
but they both wondered to themselves
            from a distance of a single season that separates
            and puts them apart
            ‘what is love with its warmth and frost’
through the frights and scares
            and the hope of light at the end of a roller coaster ride
            to the seemingly never-ending valley of lilies
            and through the glaciers of darkness
that’s what love holds for us
            it is heaven or hell or whatever it is
            a paradise worth finding
            or a purgatory waiting in chains
it is a letter full of something
            or maybe even nothing at all
            chocolates and daisies?
            forget about it
the season that separates the wondering opposites
            it is the fall of the two for the other
            it could be the literal fall
            or the ‘falling head over heels’ kind of fall
love does not matter on your gender
            nor does it matter not on your preference
            it just matters that you have someone to count on
            or maybe even a shoulder to cry on
it is like the aroma of a coffee bean
            the scent so attracting yet when tasted
            you may or may not decline it
it is also like the essence of vanilla
            sweet and innocent
            but will be missed when it is gone
love is like when you’re the toothpick
            seemingly strong and firm at first
            but with a snap
            you can easily fall to the merciless ground
it is sentimentality
            a chemical defect found on the losing side
            for not throughout this journey
            will you always find peace among the storms
it is the range of numbers from zero to ten
            for the happiness, as all emotions do
            may fade away due to the negativity
it is the whisper of students among corridors
            soft but can easily be caught
            full of gossip or full of truth
            but I could choose to believe neither
            because that four-lettered word
            made people less of what they once were
love, it can break you
            yet, with such irony
            it could mend you
            and it would be the person who destroyed it
            who would come back
            to make you feel whole again
no more holding hands in the hallyways
            or even deserted places
            that seems to be ‘romantic’
            for these are just creepers
            and things could flip upside down
with just a snap
all those things they say about love
            not all of them could happen
            from written words of our imaginations
            to the writing of it onto parchment with our pens
            it is what we wish to happen
for this world could ever be so harsh
            to the bad but especially to the good
            that we find another way to escape from it
and so summer and winter never met
            never did they cross their boundaries
            for the cycle of the seasons
            is like love
there would be battles won in the frost
            a dose of happiness in the spring among birds
            the moodiness of both in the hot summer
            and the transition and neutrality that autumn gives
for even love
            must be known to have its routine.
Lemon Oct 2019
you were my oasis in a desert
you were the light that cast shadows
you were the small thing that mattered

I always knew I would lose you
I knew the day would come
but I never knew that it would be so soon

I know you'll be back
you said it yourself
but still I miss you

and still I mourn
for who I haven't yet lost
This is written for one of my friends that I've recently had to stop talking to due to his personal reasons. The first stanza has three references to some of his music

1) I see - 3racha
2) Even a Shadow Needs Light to Exist - 3racha
3) Small Things - 3racha

I'll just have to wait until he's able to reach out to me again
Rylie Lucas Jul 2019
Warning: Bleeped out profanity. Read at your own risk

I would call you "dad"
But I would be ashamed to do so
You cannot stand up for anyone
Fooled into submission by her
That f·cking Satanic b·tch
Who is more irresponsible than I
I am ashamed you ever bed with her
I watch your offspring, wishing to be dead
Now I love your children
They even call me "Mama"
Isn't that alarming?
When they confuse their birthgiver with their sister?
But what would I know
I'm just a young girl
I don't know anything, says you
You overprotect me anyhow
As soon as I can leave, I'll be gone without a trace
Living with my mother, the woman that you hate
That you talk sh·t about, while I am within hearing range
Then act like nothing happened, do you think I am a bafoon?
At least I have the ****** courage
To tell someone to f·ck off
I'm glad I'm nothing like you
So, just f·ck off
Sorry (not sorry) about the profanity. My dad was talking smack about my mom with my stepmom and I flipping hate him for it.
Ari Mar 2015
Breathe me in my dear
Her claws creeping down my throat
Ana's here to stay

-ARI

— The End —