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Xella 2d
As I reach for the bits that still linger
I pray that I can piece together the puzzle
that splintered in the cold winter last year.

Now the chills sweep and my bones begin to shudder
I yearn for a fire, to wake this buzzing brain
to pull apart the pieces, and form a working heart.
I lost myself finding you.

You scared me that day
So I spent hours bringing you
But on the way I dropped myself
and became your doll
So now I sit on your shelf
Until you lose yourself

I found myself leaving you.
and never coming back.
Bethany Sep 15
now it’s broken bliss,
as my blood pours over from yesterday.
never finding solace from god,
he tore my flesh away.
CarolineSD Sep 15

Toss clothes like fluttered wings
In this bag.
Throw just one ******* my shoulder and

Roll the windows down and amp up the music so loud I drown
Out the static of sadness that never ends.

Find the narrow path that no one takes
In the valley by the headwaters of the lake

Won’t even scan the brushland for snakes,

Just walk


Can’t make it right anyway
Can’t make anyone stay
Can’t fill up their world with what they deserve
Tried to play every role but I’m really


Wonder what it would feel like to find the serrated edges of the rock on the top of the highest cliffs and just

Step off

Wonder what it would feel like to tell the world to *******?

Wonder if I can walk high enough to leave half of myself
Underneath the glory of the ridgeline
Stamp her shadow down with these boots and

Rise lighter

Less encumbered by the pitiful way she cries
Walk the rough trail that cuts straight up the rocks
Stand on the top
And let the sun
Burn the guilt off
Melt my heart right there on the mountain

Let it go

In the currents across the river washed rocks
Carried away to the nadirs of the sea
Where there is no special place for tears

And the whales leap up and breach the waves

And everything that ever mattered lifts in the arching spray and


But I am just a girl
Knees in the cool dirt
By the forest’s edge
And I’m not dumb enough to give it all up

And there isn’t really any blade to this hurt
Just a dull ache
That falls away the further I follow the river
Through the quaking aspens
Along the pine framed cliffs
Into the sky.

I can leave it all behind
For a little while
Toss this canvas bag onto the rough ground
Turn around

And walk into your waiting arms.
is it ok that you've been my safe space for so long?
d Sep 12
Some days I wake up confused. And lost.
Sometimes I feel like I'd just been crying. And I feel so because I know so. I know because I feel, the dried-up tear tracks running down the side of my face that hits the pillow.
Why was I crying? Why am I crying? What do I want?
I think I want meaning. I know I want a distraction. I think I know I want to let it all out.
Everything's a distraction, I'll admit. You're lifting me up mentally but I can also feel you dragging me down.
But I'm used to this and it's all way too familiar to me. Not a warm-and-cozy kinda familiar, an I've-been-cold-for-so-long-that-my-heart-is-frozen kinda familiar.
Can you figure me out? Because I can't.
Tell me, am I pretending, or trying to hide, or pretending to try and hide?
These songs I hear in my head, do you hear them too? You know, I can't help but sing along.
Inhabiting my body, possessing my mind, flowing forth from my mouth, and the mouth of those without an identity of their own.
At the end of the day,
I know who I am, I know what I am.
I am afraid.
I am afraid of myself.
I am afraid of the power I may possess and I am afraid of the power that may possess me.
Poetry was always like a means of escape to me. I used to pour my heart out to pages and pages at a time. Now, in a place where I simply cannot bring myself to write, or feel, anything anymore, I revisit times when my most raw thoughts were taken off my mind and placed on crumpled paper instead.
Spadille Aug 27
I envy those who have found there passion
I envy those who are drunk with passion
It makes me wander into space
As uncertainty circles around me
As I grow sceptical about achieving it
Spadille Aug 25
I can do things but it can never be as good as others
Compare me with them, you'd be disappointed
My works and skills were always average
I am best at nothing

Questions fill my head
And self doubt consumes me
I can't seem to find my passion
Or maybe I lost it
Might contain some grammatical errors, English is not my first language. I'm open for corrections and constructive criticism, It will help me improve.
Sky Aug 24
The days I spent
waiting for you
searching through crowds
dying to see your face
only to be left breathless
the instant
you recognized me
as you freed
my stone cold soul
with those blazing eyes
of yours
Jamesb Aug 15
Weeks of wrestling
With the line
And feeling
Your footing
Slip on ever
Less dependable

Feeling not just
The solid power
Upon the line
But that imperterbable strength,
That fearsome yet calm focus

As a fish once caught
Is reeled in not to rod
And not to shore,
But to new self knowledge

Feet now wet
Toes dipped in the waters
Which soon will
Close above as you
Slip delighted
Beneath their waves
This is one of a few poems about that precious journey from innocence or naivete to one's true passion and power. Different aspects inspired by a true friends tale
Allesha Eman Aug 14
In endearing silence,
Exists the stillness of black and white,
The painter holds the palette against their chest,
And their heartbeat colours in the pigments,
As their brush strokes the canvas,
Droplets of light begin to surround you,
Like floating fireflies, or stars on earth,
And in your eyes, colour blooms,
You sit, framed, in black and white,
But the smile you wear when you stare at wonder,
Brings your colours back to life,
The painter captures a portrait,
Made from the paper of destiny,
A picture of you finding yourself,
As the silence waves goodbye,
Leaving behind echoes of your hopeful laugh.
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