Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jonas Feb 2021
I'm good
most of the time
I'm in control
I'm satisfied, I can feel happines

But sometimes a feeling comes crashing over me
out of nowhere
triggerd
like when you finish a good book
the end credits roll
of a movie all so beautiful
emptiness sitting on your chest so heavily
I can't cry
no release granted
"pain demands to be felt"
my heart breaks, my mind trying to keep up
my heart can't keep up, my mind breaks loose
emptiness
the despair of ficitional characters
familiar but strangers all the same
not real but reality to me
I care for them, being dead inside
"face death, deal with it or lose yourself"
the last page is turned
the story stopped
all are dead and yet alive
in me
not enough room, make way

I try to numb it out to get back in control
whisky burns my lips
smoke scratches my throat
whishing for release
lose it, keep it tucked in forever
though I feel, finally
alive
I want to punish myself
I lose control for good
emotions bundle up to the surface
make up for time lost before
drunk texting
regret in the morning after
I need to express myself
to you, to anyone, get it out
there is no one here

Weltschmerz
pain of the world
all in one
tiny little heart so fragile
I'm made up of stories

My friend can I come over
I'm in that mood again
grey Feb 2021
it had been only a nightmare, i told myself. but when i awoke he was still there. in the corner of my room.  he was not staring at me but the window, everything was pitch black. i looked out the glass and saw more. “they will hurt you” he said. “i will protect you.” i looked away from the window to him. “but for how long will you last?” i asked, “and how long will they be there?” he looked at me. his ****** eyes into mine, “eternity.” i wept silently as the banging on my door started. “honey, it’s mom! im home.” my mom called, as i got up to open the door, a force stopped me. i looked at him. “it’s them. not her.” he said. “don’t come near me.” i replied to the banging. “let me in, he’s mind tricked you, we’re all trying to save you!” she yelled back. his eyes weren’t ****** anymore and suddenly he was starting to look less humanized. “mom come get me!” i cried. until i opened the door and everyone was gone. i woke up. on the floor of the bathroom. leaving there, i saw my families dead bodies. blood everywhere. i saw him. “their blood is on your hands.” i looked down holding an axe.
bahulakaji Sep 2020
When I was a kid,

I wanted to be a pilot.

I wanted to fly all kinds of planes

Fast plane, big plane, small plane,

I also wanted to fly the jets, and the HUGE cargo planes,

and then the gliders, hot air balloons, from the classic indian the pushpak vimaan to those double winged old airplanes, as seen on encyclopedias !

And ahh..

The fighter jets too

but a fighter jet would not have seats for a family picnic,

so may be I’d fly the passenger jets.

A Boeing 777 perhaps-

but all of this, my air plane fanaticism, was because I had a special place that I wanted to fly.

In one of my dad’s many stories, he once told me about a special plane.

It was called Moment 001- The first and the last of it’s kind.

Now, Moment 001 was the best kind of plane,

It was colored like the rain, it was faster than the human brain

It was lighter than a car, and it’s speed – INSANE !

So fast that not even time could catch up,

Moment 001 was a time machine.

But with wings and blinks and pretty little things.

A machine that goes so fast it can escape the grip of time.

When I was a kid, I could not wait to grow up !

And it was confusing,

The plant that I planted in grade 3 by the time I was in grade 4

was taller than me, and I would be the same.

I wanted to grow older faster,

in order to fly airplanes

and may be- just may be

get my hands on Moment 001.

 

And then it happened,

slowly, but it happened.

Growing up I realized time is a funny thing.

You can’t turn the clock arms around and go back to yesterday,

and then realizing that time and space are both quantities,

and then again some theoretical physicist say-

that time is not really timeless.

 

Basically,

We humans have not figured time out.

No time machines !

Moment 001 was an airplanes that did not exist.

But where science failed me, art found me.

Airplanes were replaced by poetry,

and I was fascinated by words.

I wanted to fly words.

All kinds of words,

Strong words, Science words,

some right words, some wrong words,

used up words, and some left over words,

rap words and pop words-

And it turns out,

They have invented time machine in poetry

A long long time ago

And no, I did not grow up to be a pilot,

but that does not stop me from flying-

my paper planes.
Steven Boston Jun 2020
I care not for the boxed city behind the walls
Look to the white sheeted hills where I stand
In all my emerald glory ready to release my fiery terror upon the ones who stupidly scorned

Ostrasised for my peculiarity

'Fire breathing' they shouted
'Witch' they chanted

What do they know of being different..
Nothing

My cold wet hand holds my burning-orb
Fate will release its hand on this dark dark night

Sheep to the slaughter
Sheep to the slaughter
Fantasy piece
Janice Feb 2020
I took a hit to fly away that day
I should of known the high wont last
Because when the crash came
Like a fast train
The dripping rain stopped
The flashing lights drined
And i passed out for 3 whole days
In a puddle of freezing rain
That was my skin
That was my brain

I woke up in a full body shake
Need another hit just to stay awake
To speed me up to keep me sane
Maybe ill at least remember my name
Or maybe this is all a game

And thats a thought
My brain can't shake
My whole life is
An endless earthquake
All my emotions are becoming fake
The high is the only taste i take
Driving me to keep up the pace

I need more to get the same effect
My mind hurts, i need a rest
Gotta stay high to keep at my best
With the crash comes
The crippling distress
Of all my thoughts
Rushing and pressed
Into my consciousness
Im out of breath
Everytime i do this
Im nearing my death
Janice Feb 2020
A peaceful, calm, and quiet place
A respite from, this crazy haze
Silent whispers - from afar
Shes too drifted to hear them call
Out to her, from reality
Her comatose tranquility
Surrounds her mind,
In foggy clouds
Protects her from her memories
She doesn't need to understand
Nor realize what is happening
As she slowly drifts, off to sleep
Never to come back
To me.
Janice Feb 2020
It was the night she was murdered

The shadows clung tight to the walls

Whispering of evens that left them appalled

Behind the corner the little girl stalls

Knife in her hand makes her feel tall

Taller than mom who lies on the floor

Pools of her blood the carpet absorbs

Mom causing pain has long been ignored

The little girls terrors

Forever no more
Next page