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Art is my escape
The place I dare to dream,
Depositing frustrations
That make me want to scream;
Tying up the loose ends
Of mental threads about to snap
Seeking peaceful solitude
From a world that's full of crap.
Sometimes, pen and paper
Are the only things I trust,
When all around me shatters,
And turns to empty dust.
Here among the soft lights
Of lamp, and desk, and ink
I give into emotion
So I do not have to think.
Angela Jun 2020
I told u I was fine
All I need is a glass of water
To take some pills
I never knew u cared
Your eyes were blank with blackness
That was all I needed
You wouldn't under stand all the nights I spent shivering
Hiding from my dreams
I would paint the sky with my tears
I have lost too many times
I have failed too many things
My arms are the proof of my revenge
Memories hopefully forgot come flooding back in
I grab for a knife to cut out the pain, horror, memories, and the nightmares I have of you
While I bleed I see the memories, horror, pain, and nightmares start to flow out with the colors of blood.
Then the knife falls from my hand and drops into the puddle of memories, horror, pain,   and nightmares with the color of blood red.
When you need to clean your sins my wrist were made to bleed
I can't sleep tonight the demons of mind take over and haunt my soul and mind
Every night is a sleepless night when the demons taunt and play and rip apart you insides and blood filled with memories, pain, horror, and nightmares come flowing out in the tears the roll down my cheeks in the middle of a restless night.
Each restless night I spend with the demons I make peace with the darkness
The last night I spend with these demons will be the last night I live.
This is one of my lows no u didn't do what I wrote this in my head this is what came out
Cenna Khatib Jun 2020
In every word scribbled I find a story, a memory, a person attached to it
The subject of every poem is you and that person changes as quickly as I choose to run
Or she, a pronoun I so often hide behind because she is easier to utter than admitting I have felt pain
And there are always people hidden in the ink, whom I’ve hurt or helped, longed for or lost
And sometimes they’re the strangers I create lives for in the back of my mind, taking comfort in the creativity of it all, the fantasy of it
The escape
Poetry Art Jun 2020
"why are you writing
poems and prose?"
asked a guy out of nowhere
while staring at my pen

"to breathe."
I answered with a smile

for writing lets me indulge
with metaphors and similes

it is my escape
the key toward my fantasies
hey, why do you write?
Chia Seeds Jun 2020
I submerge myself
in the seawater

The water
envelopes me
and
drowns out
the noise of this world

There’s an inexplicable
peace
down here

To know that
everything
still goes on
while
I’m under refuge

Yes,
the water may sting my eyes
my lungs may ache for oxygen

But to be
d  e  t  a  c  h  e  d
from this world

Even for just
t h i r t y  s e c o n d s  

It’s all worthwhile
Parzival Jun 2020
This is how this story goes
I ask you, how does it feel when the lights don't stop
Bright screens blinding you, no place to go
Abandon Everything you know
And run away, escape from the prison of
Preconceptions
Let go, go out, free yourself from the chains
Abandon all the things you know
Put an end to the tedious cycle
I ask you once more, how does it feel?
How does feel when the tides slam into you?
Just run away, run into the emptiness
No cell phones, no TV
Let go, move out, here the words of judgement
don't stop
Abandon Everything you hold dear
Just quit, run away, run away
Just let go, be free
Hide your thoughts no more
Get out, move away from there vicious hearts
They say there's no place to go
But that's what makes worth trying.
TyeniWrites Jun 2020
Not just writing, but a friend
Thank you for being my escape
From this cruel world
Jessica Hanna Jun 2020
Why do we have to tolerate so much
When multiple escapes are thrown at us everyday

Why is it seen as self destruction to give in to one of those escapes
Why do we have to choose between the silent stabs
And the public white flag

Why do we consider using an escape as a white flag
Why do we have to give up in order to be completely numb

We might always feel numb
But we never are
We strive to be numb

Having feeling is supposed to be the strongest trait
But when it reflects so poorly on itself
Why aren't we allowed to be weak

Why do we have to condemn the glares of disappointment
Even though we just need a hand
A hand that we will never reach out for

Why does each eye provide an impact that further pushes us
Waiting on the porch
Rocking chair now steady
Sewing a rip in a jacket
The rip never seems to mend as the needle is drawn to our finger
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