Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Matthew Harlovic Jan 2018
a mind that feels no gratitude to the forest
is a coarse mind indeed—without siladhamma—
the body feeds off doubts the mind will seed.

© Matthew Harlovic
Gabriella Jan 2018
You are so lovely
Who else would bring me this joy?
You are my only

I love you of course.
But thoughts of him whirl around
And what could've been.

I wish for options
To look from another place
But I cannot look
Someday maybe                         |                gnitiaw fo derit worg ll'I
As I wonder about of you            |         ?yhw wonk t'nod i sselpleh oS
Hear my heart that say...          |                 ...enola lla ereh m'I taht
Of our sweet memories             |                 yawa spils tsuj ti tsaf oS
That is here to stay,                   |             ,emit ni eud nettogrof tuB
Of my love to you, Forever        |     og tel ot esoohc uoy evol ruo fo
It's been sitting in draft for years, so as the memories that comes with it.
(Origin date)
03/28/2011 8:15-AM

(CC BY-NC-ND 4.0)
Janelle Mainly Oct 2017
I know, I have, doubted, our lo-ve.
And with, that strike, you've cut, your chest wide open.
I didn't realize, I'd suffer your demise.
Before, our split, my hopes, your lies.
Never once, think that, I have, misspoken.
What we once had, you and I, you and me, has broken.
I, fell ill, bad case of weak sense of will.
Because, you erased, all that I experienced.
So goodbye, don't ever say, I didn't let you fly.
Breakups are hard.
Charlie Hazels Oct 2017
I love you
Your gentle touch
Your nervous giggle
You caring smile

I love you
But I'm not in love

My hand clenches around my heart
Constricting its beating
Forcing it to step in time to the wrong dance

I'm slicing m own soul apart with this quandary
But the knife is so sharp I hardly notice it
I only think of your face
What you will do when I tell you

I love you
But I'm not in love

The hurt pouring from your eyes
Like blood from a wound
Not windows, but floodgates to the soul unable to close

As your eyes furrow
And mouth turns, open in surprise
Glasses a shield for me
Or you, I can't tell

I love you
But I'm not in love
Dream Fisher Oct 2017
These kids are like dragons
Their flames will only drag them down
All the talk is cheap,
Actions only happen on softened ground
As my mind and eyes get heavy
I've been swimming where reality and dreams meet
They say tragedy is dying in death but I don't believe,
Tragedy is never attempting to live, I don't believe
You should give only 30 percent of your mind
To find if the dreams you believe is something you can achieve
And the start only takes a start to begin.

I know what it's like to give it all and still never win
When your account is in red and car running fumes
Selling all of my things in these rooms
Just for the comfort of having a roof
But Ryan, what if it isn't enough and you lose?
I refuse, to put those thoughts in my mind.
You want all of those doubts?
Fine, what if I die of anaphylaxis  tomorrow
What if I don't have a breath to borrow
And I just turn blue.
What if this stress breaks me down
And I forget all the things that make me live
That's just as much true as all of the positive
So why do they scream all these nightmares on the news
But never show all the dreams pounding through

They want you divided, they want you weak
Push down the kid trying to speak
Tell him he's ignorant for having childish morals
Attack his grammar, leaving sides in a quarrel.
Forget the issue for fighting, they bring in their own issue for fighting.
In a rich man's war, it's all the poor biting
Until the world is bloodstained, we scatter from lightning.
Why isn't anyone asking why we are fighting?
These flames are only going to drag us down.
TheStartOfMyEnds Oct 2017
Deciding to halt my steps
Give my past a chance to catch up
She pats my back
A cold self loathing greet
Swallowing up my pride
Beating down the shame that crawls up my knees
It takes every ounce of strength
To mutter up enough courage for my eyes to turn
Face my reflections
And acknowledge the person I once was

There she stands
shoulders slumped and a smile so pitiful
In her eyes mirrors all my mistakes
painted in permanent colours
How I wish to befriend her
Thank her for the lessons
and kiss every one of her inglorious scars
For allowing me to become what I've became

Returning her the same smile
Doubt feels like acid in my throat
We have yet to meet the face of our future
Will she be disappointed?
But taking comfort of the present fact
However humiliating my past turns out to be
I will never wish to change anything of what she is and for what she was
For she and I, both aspire to be a one simple but 'good enough' thing
And the me of the Past shapes the future I've fought to attain
Before
and Still
I just scribbled this up right at this moment, so I apologise if my poet-grammar is a bit tedious. For some reason, I'm feeling somewhat 'lightweight' and there's just this unclear vibe of letting go... and I'm just gonna embrace that without giving much question. I'm really exhausted with all the negative energy I've been giving off for the past days, weeks, months...years maybe.. ***! Some people call it a case of "bipolarity"..?? Idk but I prefer a big cup of self-control in my life so... f*ck bipolarity!! Hehe ...and no I'm not high, I am not on drugs
Carlyy Sep 2017
Too many times to count,
I've changed
My mind.
Too many of your doubts,
Caused me to stay caged,
Disappointed to find,
Me.
    

                                      «c.h.b.»
It's like I am my own friend and enemy.
V Sep 2017
The man behind the window,
Watches the religious preachers pass,
"Oh no, not again..." he worries,
"Now what will they ask?"

He hides as if they do not know,
He ignores the world outside,
He stays silent and distant,
No, he isn't home, he denies.

The sound of his door-bell can be heard throughout his whole house,
This time it's louder than usual, like a cat yeowl to a mouse.

He stays put for one moment, then two, then three,
What he least expected was a knock now,
"Oh, please just let me be".
He was a good man, but his mind was his own,
But ****** would he be, to ignore another mans right to a speech.

Religious or solicitor, neighbor, family or friend,
He just couldn't help it, a voice was a voice to appreciate in the end.

Carefully he opened, the great, white door,
And there stood a couple, with a smile so genuine, not fake for sure.
"Hello! We are preachers of God's great word,
Would you care to listen please, Sir?"


Minutes was passed and the man listened closely,
He wasn't much of a religious follower,
He didn't understand what those words or verses mean.
Still he listened, to much of his own surprise,
He felt a sense of happiness, and no, he didn't have to lie.

He lived in great misery, alone, angry and afraid of the world,
He had grown irritable and distrusting,
His mind a constant bustling.

But to have a company, despite what he had been told,
Such religous faces, were not evil or cold.
They made him feel comforted, and to his surprise a sense of hope,
For a moment he felt his hands hold on tighter, to the end of his own rope.

When finally they finished they spoke softly,
"Sir would you be intersted, in perhaps a bible study?"
For a moment he considered it, but suddnely his thoughts came back,
They came upon him so quickly, like a startled heart-attack.

"You will have to excuse me, I must be going now..."
With that he closed the door, without another sound.
The couple confused, only turned silently and left,
While the man had slumped down against the door, a sad, tragic mess.

For you see he had felt hope, happiness, and a sense of great peace,
Whether that was from two people alone or spirtuality.
But somewhere inside him, the voices screamed out loud:
"You don't deserve God or anyone..."
He was hurt and blinded in a dark black cloud.

He sat and sobbed, for he felt it was unsafe to take anything or care,
"Who am I to anything in this world?
I don't deserve anything, not even God should want me here.
I am not worth that salvation, or a knock from anyone,
Not even Christ himself should love me or my "blood".
I have no family, friends or job of any kind,
Please, just let me be preached by the only church that is my mind."
Based on a True Story~

As someone who grew up in a religious family, I soon went my own ways when I got older, I lost and to admit, abandoned my faith and found it quiet dark on my own.

I have had a lot happen, and with mental illnesses that scream at you constantly about how unworthy you are of anything, even good hearted preachers, or loved ones seem like a threat.
Many times I have closed my own doors on people, acting as if I had it all together and I didn't need anything, more so God...
Only to find myself behind that door later, praying for a sign, a voice, something at all.

Depression has killed me and made me a very isolated and cold person at times...
And like this character in the poem, he is stuck to the only thing he knows, his mind, his "church of thoughts."

I don't know where I was going with this at first, and I am not exactly sure it even came out correctly...
But it found me now, in the middle of the night, wanting to be manifested.
Interpet it as you wish. :)
And no, this is nothing against religious ones or anything negative,
In my opinion and eyes, I hold a very deep respect and appreciation for those still in touch with a belief so strongly they want to share.
And many times, these people were the only ones who have helped me when I didn't even have to ask. :)

...
I love you all,
Religious or not. ❤

:)
Next page