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Agnes de Lods Mar 16
I trace the sign of infinity
against the window
with my fingertips.

The cold, transparent glass
reflects the distant lights.
The evening city moves so fast,
and time seems to slow down.

Yet this disturbing reflection
lingers in my mind.
I have been living in this town for years,
feeling as if I’m not really here,
in reality.

Somewhere unknown,
behind my eyes
unspoken nostalgia
softly calls to me,
drawing ever closer
like a friend
who knows me best,
who truly sees me as I am.

What is it that I long for so deeply?
What kind of truth do I seek to reveal?
I feel whole in this human existence
but an irrational voice murmurs:
This is not your place,
not your time.

Maybe I feel like this
because,
one day, by chance
I left my body in pain
touching infinity
and I sensed freedom
beyond the weight of human doubt?
Mina Mar 16
It felt like a bus hit me
A venomous snake bit me
Marching venom in my body's warfare
I felt betrayed and weak
Couldn't let out but a silent squeak
My eyes widened with doubt
My brain couldn't find a way out
"Is this real?!" Again and again
At this moment there was such unimaginable pain
Questions flooded my body
My thoughts turned ******
This feeling is like musical chords
Something I can't describe with words
....
What if I'm wrong?
What if I'm on the wrong side?
What if they're right?
And they did nothing wrong?

Maybe I need more proof,
Maybe I need to let this go,
I want this to be a safe space,
I pray for a safe HP.

Is there a way we can have peace,
Where no one gets hurt anymore,
Is there a way we can have peace,
Without tearing apart HP?
I haven't seen any proof one way or the other for anyone. I want the best for this site, to be a place where people can find safety in art. Is there a way we can take away real predators and not have people falsely accused as one?
If they doubt I'm so young,
But simply agree with the rest,
Does that mean I've finally reached a point,
Where I am so good,
There's only up?
Or will I come crashing down,
Is youth my key to fame,
Will they still read me when I grow old,
And this number fades away?
When my hair thins and grays,
Will my name?
Or will I pave my way to legacy?
My ink has a clock,
I'm afraid of it ticking down.
It's always been a question since day one.
Gideon Mar 8
We are all heroes in someone’s story.
A brief moment.
A needed word.
A helping hand.

We all question if we’re the bad guy.
In the sink, we see blood.
In the mirror, we see the villain.
In our heads, we hear the victims.

We all are just normal people in the end.
Flying through life.
Saving the people we love.
Protecting what we care about.

We may be the heroes after all.
Always read more than you write,
Enjoy more than you dislike,
Critique less than you praise,
But critique none the less.
Though if you come to doubt,
Sing more than you are silent,
Walk more than you are still,
Then pick up the pen once again.
If you somber, write all that is sad,
Yet if you rejoice, write only the praises of the sun,
Though if you laugh, soon you will cry,
Only to know the beautiful cycle of life.
A pocket book for every new poet.
Bekah Halle Mar 1
No more doubt.
No more unhealthy fear.
Shrink back shadows,
You are not welcome in my life.

No more shame.
No more people pleasing.
I shine a light on the truth,
That my future is bright.

No more playing small.
No more self-sabotage.
I stand again,
I will enlarge.

I will seek you for truth.
I will quieten the taunts.
I will stop the tremmers,
And breathe again.

I will receive my fortunes.
I will rejoice in my success.
I will reclaim lost ground,
I will rest.
Lizzie Feb 13
Friends go to church on Sundays and girl sleeps in.
Friends wear tiny little crosses on their necks and she wears nothing.
Friends believe in a divine, arbitrary, God and she believes in nothing.

“She is more of a scientific girl,” she says.
“God created the universe,” they say.
“The Big Bang created the universe.”
“Well, why did the Big Bang happen?” They ask.
“Scientists do not know but it is not because of a God,” she says.

Yes, she turns to science and friends turn to their tiny pretty cross necklaces.
She likes science because science is reliable. science is consistent, does not forget, does not lie, does not exile you for making one mistake.

Maybe that is why she does not believe.
Not because she thinks herself above them.

But because she is afraid.

“Do not fall for tricks of the devil,” they say but she has fallen for the snake's lies many of times and relished in it every. single. instance.

She is Eve and has taken from the poison tree again and again.
That is why she is afraid.
Because if Heaven is real then she would go to Hell.

“God is all forgiving,” they say.

Lies, Adam and Eve ended up lying in a pile of broken promises and death at the end, didn’t they?

If God was so forgiving, would he forgive her for having more sins than she does hairs on her head?
If God was so forgiving would he forgive her for losing faith?
If God was so loving then why would he curse her with this fate?

If God believed in love, why doesn’t he love her? Why does he not love me?
Jn Feb 7
I seat in dread,
It's the corpses,
It's the tension,
And foul stench.

The way the blood drips,
Gently onto my skin,
From my head,
I'm sleepy though.

I want to rest,
I'm convinced,
I need it,
But lately I've been too convinced.

And trouble follows,
It's attracted to me,
It loves my impulses,
My irrational decisions.

That dance with danger,
With no care in the world,
Just pure self indulgence,
They love my destructive self.
By:Jn
There are some days
That will never end
Days that take my nights away
Nights are precious
Full of stars and dreams
Nights are the right time to be awake
But days swallow them
They poison them
They burn them to death
And then endless days exist
And love seems like such a manipulation
And smiling takes the effort
That stargazing tears consume
And then winter comes
And nothing stays the same
But everything seems stuck
Days are shorter but disappointing
Nights are long passages
Throught songs I can't listen to anymore
And then there's you in my brain
In my damaged
Poisonous
Mind
Soul
In everything I own
I keep my isolating obsessions in touch
So you can see them
Before really meeting me
Maybe that's why you run away
And when you come back
It's night again
But days are older
And bigger
And turtorous
And you're night
I thought I was night once
I might be a constellation
Watching tears through people
Stargazing me
And you're the whole night
The whole night
And I'm just stars in between
And when you're the day
I never appear
I drink my venom
And I die for as long as
your sun stares at my
bleached hair
Days are suffering manipulators
And I'm just some weird lyrics
Inside some pointless notebook
Written probably in the morning
And I stay there dead
Trying to reach my poison
Because venom is not permanent
And when I finally find it
Through the chaotic words
Of the daylight
The night comes
And I'm a part of myself again
And you're watching me
Becoming night
as you become day
And I don't try to reach you
I'm staying night
You can become a constellation
And I'll drown you
With my labyrinth of a heart
Inside my stars
And I'll be night
And those days will finally end
And I'll be night
And I'll let you finish your morning poem
Then
At night .
I wrote this about a year ago at night, I always write at night, there's not much to it, it's just a poem describing a nocturne situation.
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