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The mothers are sitting in the kitchen late
one of them asks Did you like what you ate?
I nod, curtly in deceit, eyes half open in anguish.

My mother’s pistol hand pulls the trigger
firing a bullet of a slap across my face
leaving an imaginary wound on my cheek.

The pain is empty like the love she never gave me
and my father’s mistress drunkenly laughs for
he isn’t home yet to whisk her away for the night.

While I tremble and feed on my streaming tears  
the mothers are sitting in the kitchen late
and I’ve barely touched the cold dish on my plate.

M. 10/31/20
Hey all! I just joined.
PV Mar 25
It’s Funny, I see you looking, from all the way over there
And I wonder
What are you thinking
And why do I care
But then you lean in
And I listen
Then you pull back
So I watch you
You’ve piqued my curiosity
I think I’ve piqued yours
I watch you watch me
And I wonder
What are you thinking
cassandra Mar 23
lonely in the sea of people
overwhelmed while being alone
craving you to like me
while praying that you don't

didn't know the colors
seeing in black and white
all the flaws seemed see through
despite hours sacrified to hide

naked between the sheets
pillows soaking the tears
and all this because
mirror was my worst enemy
pradipsingh Mar 21
hold her tight
never let her fall
for she may be the one
who will hold you tight
when you are falling and drifting apart
First poem
grave Feb 28
thought enters.
& repeats,
& repeats,
& repeats,
& repeats,
& repeats,
until another comes to take its place,
filling up the cluttered space
inside my mind.
a hoarder's den of memories i don't wish to find,
& others lost to passing time.
i'm not much of a poem writer but i think it could be a good outlet.
keni Feb 24
To be quite honest I don’t know.
I have no apples for tomorrow
I am the pillow of my friends
And the willow for the pests
I am the chipped nail on my left hand
And I don’t clean under my bed
I don’t want you to see me
And I don’t want you to hear me
I just need to know everything about me
To be
JR Rose Jan 4
It begins with a whisper.
One thought,
one voice,
one blow upon the dam
to a restless river.


This dark duet
of doubt
of uncertainty;
two thoughts to feed
two voices to fetter
two fiends to fuel
an unruly fire,
bigger yet.


No, it crescendoes!
Voices rising,
like mephitic vapors—
I inhale.
I choke.
I scream.
But no one hears me.
No one hears what's inside my head.


Please, be quiet
lest I ruin me,
and all that I love;
draw a line in the sand,
sift out these voices of right
and wrong
of good
and bad
of truth
and lies
because these voices lie
oh yes, they do.
And if I know me—
every crevice
every crack
every word written in my heart
by my God, O my God, who made
every crevice
every crack
every word written in my heart—
how can they know me too?


You wicked voices!
Yes, I know what you do to
stir fear
until I have no choice
but to listen to the voices.


No more.
No more voices,
or restless rivers,
or unruly fires,
or mephitic vapors.


Blissful silence.
I can breathe
and close my eyes
to the black symphonies of

Yet, in the absence
in the void
a single note echoes
indiscernible in the buzz
but this is silence
and in the silence
things become louder
until I crave the noise again.
J Jan 4
I may be a smoker
but I still think of the fruit
when I hear cherry
pilar Dec 2020
She was perfect

She was kind

Like the fire, her flames aimed to be the brightest

She's the perfectionist and protagonist  

Tho she's slipping away from the light

Now drifting towards darkness

Slowly becoming heartless and shameless

Surrounded by her anger and hunger for power

Her envy quickly devoured her

All her bottled emotions came suffusing like how the waves overpower the tides

Now she’s the misunderstood villain in the story  

Trapped in her unwrapped emotions

Alone on her bloodstone throne  

Having disgraced her family, and to be known as human waste

She's the sinner and winner of my story
this was my very first poem I would love any feedback
this was my very first poem I would love feedback
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