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Cheyenne Apr 25
It's perfect,
My life.
Not a single worry to be found.

But when will it all fall apart?
When will I bolt out of bed
And realize it was never real?
This life of smiles
And laughter

It’s too perfect.
And feels too real,
Even as the corners fade to black.

Convinced:
Not awake,
I know I'm dreaming.

But the thing I dread most…
Is waking up.
How much longer do I have before the hourglass is empty?
How much farther can I tread before the road ends?

Not far, it seems.

The alarm screams at 6 am.
The fever dream shatters,
As I grasp at the jagged pieces.
I am dragged through my existence
In this dreary, gray world.
Until I fall back asleep.
Yavuz May 15
At the foot of my balcony,
there was an inviting hole,
allowing my eyes' vision to enter,
luminescent colors burning in my head,
like a child's fantastic playground,
retaken from memory's debris.

Running out of time,
night's veil faintly glowing,
stars reaching out to me,
asking me witheringly,
why I would treat my soul beneath contempt,
why would they appreciate my absence,
my whiskey's glass,
cascading,
down the shade's slide.

Breathy wind skimming over my soaked lips,
disappointment prowling through trembling legs,
the joy of night,
taking one's leave,
the sighs of dawn,
crossing the threshold
into waking life,
tears steadily drying out,
curling my consciousness insentient,
ruptured hole,
denying my presence too.
Rebecca Apr 27
I was in my bed
feeling some dread
of not finding any friends.

I woke up, I slept again
and I felt the chain of my internal disdain.
Above the black, I'm trapped beneath the white.
Time slips away, past my distracted sight.
My mind, clusters all of my pain and my fright,
They tangle as one with life's cold endless night.

I reach for stars that used to guide, used to teach.
As I Begged for my cleansing while soaking in bleach.
I trusted in the magic of the moon, now I see.
It's nothing more than a rock, that I know I can't reach.

My Quantum perceptions, once clear as the day,
Elude from my vision, like dreams, they drift away.
Every feeling is just harsh. Each thought runs astray,
My body outlives the suffering my spirit's slow decay.

Hung swaying, for all to see, can't live a disguise.
My Agony is screaming, but at a deaf, silent sky.
Through fractured, foggy lenses, I see only hidden lies.
The cosmos entrapped behind the cage of my eyes.

Emotions do not live past the span of human life.
The universe continues, far past our demise,
To a divine destination. Our progress will be forgotten.
Emotions deemed redundant. Our egos will lay rotten.

All else has true purpose, even without eyes to see it.
Or emotions to feel it. Or belief to give it reason.  
No matter who believes it. Time lives, never freezes.
An endless puzzle shrouded by he, who designed the pieces.

I struggle just to get clean cause my demons are not leaving.
I have fought for a belief, to find there's nothing in believing.
Something stealing all the meaning and replacing it with feelings.
Terrored dreams keeping me screaming, pleading with the ceiling.
Simon Bridges Apr 23
After conscription to endure
                              One outing
I’ve no heart or smile for a new
                                  Bon voyage

You have no heart or smile
                                           Came a reply

Is this truly what you think
Is this what I have become
A person sober and grey
Without appetite
                            For life
Perhaps Iv'e forgotten it's taste
Perhaps I am anorexic
Perhaps your right

                         Perhaps I’m tarnished
                         Perhaps I never forget
Perhaps the poppies will cease to whisper
Impossible for me to imagine the horror of war..
But having a go, this is how I may have responded after serving and surviving WW1 only to be faced with prospect of doing it all over again in WW2. Last British soldier to serve in both wars past away in 2009 - Respect love and light
Simon Bridges Apr 22
To that which is felt
                        Heard
                        Seen
                        Anticipated
                        
The chord within a Hammer Horror
Scored in a “diminished fifth”
Which
When conducted
Emits a frequency that
                             Walks through walls
Maria Apr 18
Mum, my sweetheart, I’m tired.
Do you believe or not?

It’s like my legs are broken under
Or maybe they’re gone for short.

My head is being torn apart
By different odd thoughts.

And I can’t, I can't stop thinking.
Fears are around. More mots.

I ***** up my eyes firmly.
I instantly stop my ears.

And I’m silent again, silent again
As if there’re no dread and fears.

Mum, my sweetheart, I’m tired!
I don’t want being afraid to live!

I’m so tired mum! I’m really tired!
There’re too much atrocities.
It’s true, not a myth.

Just little bells,
Ding-****, ding-****,
Are chirping sweet sounds.
How nice is their song.

There’s not a bit truth
In that saccharine ‘re-fa-la’.
But there won't be nothing else.
We can’t live without lie.
Thank you very much for reading this poem! It's particularly personal, inside out, painful... 🙏
Debbie Apr 15
Fear has unraveled its roots,
in the dank soil of my soul.
This shadowed unknown agony,
lurks the dark country of my heart.
In places I would never dare go.  
A starless womb,  
from which black embryos of horror,
will be born.  

I launch prayers to the angels,  
but hell's laughter is wicked and loud.  

Dread.
Worse than being dead.
One of the worst emotions out there.
Create me to love,
But to never be accepted.
Bind my soul to sin.
Then for sin, deem me rejected.

Destine me to burn,
But to never burn clean.
Create me in divine image,
That's never to be seen.

Persuade me to trust,
To ensure I’d feel betrayed.
Gift me with a life,
To watch a life's decay.

Give me fragile emotion,
To observe my shattered core.
Hoard all sense of peace,
In a world at constant war.

Offer me no wings,
Then demand I ascend.
Force me to be strong,
Then force me to bend.

Decide my directions,
Then curse all the roads.
Promise me forgiveness,
That's neither felt nor shown.

Mold my faulted psyche,
To be damaged by confusion.
Make real my nightmares,
Make my dreams the delusion.

Shackle down my conscience,
Then tell me that I’m free.
Create me in divine image,
Drive me to hate what I see.
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