Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sarah Michelle Oct 2016
There's a rainy state
State of mind
Mind not heart
Heart is too fickle
Fickle and amorous too
Too much so to contain
Contain the rainy state
State of mind
Mind not body
Body is too present
Present, not a gift
Gift is too shiny, glimmering
Glimmering like raindrops
Raindrops that never smile
Maddy Van Buren Oct 2016
i think hell is driving through your hometown
in the middle of the night, like a ghost
you wander through the aisles
of the gas stations
hostess snacks and beef jerky
and your cold, dead hands
you picking out a pack of cigarettes
the love of your life a whole state away
never even realizing
you've been dead
this whole time
you were doomed the day you were born
until the day you die
and after that
It was a handful
of empathetically attentive people
who noticed that she was absent,
even though she was standing
in the centre
of the well-lit room,

It was the same few
helpless people
who witnessed the moment
that she disappeared;
as she vanished
into the dense thickness
of Anxiety's terrifyingly wretched,
invisible,
shroud of gloom.

By Lady R.F ©2016
Anxiety is my enemy,
always has been,
and I'm almost sure that it always will be.
I've lost so much because of it,
but I will never stop fighting
for control, and my freedom.

I thank everyone for their support.
Crimsyy Sep 2016
Will you be my moon,
shining your brightness
on my gloom?
Jellyfish Sep 2016
The sky is crying, just like me
The clouds keep screaming, out to me.
They boom and roar and bang against my roof,
I wish I could calm them down the way they made my stress and tears disappear.
The Man is lying naked.
This filthy pavement is his abode.
The Man is emaciated and famishing.
And he never begs for alms,
Proud and conceited.
The road is busier than ever.
No one takes interest in him.
No one catches a glimpse at him.
And a few feign not having seen him at all.

The time fleets on, the cars move on,
The Man is lying naked.

At the first blush, far from being a beggar
Is the Man.
He is well-complexioned with big glamorous eyes.
His face is sleek and his hair shines against
The lustrous sunbeams.
His eyes are gleeful, but mournful is his heart.
Penniless though, his craving for gold is sheer.
He ogles at the gold brought by the people around.
But he never begs for alms,
Proud and conceited.
Then someone nears him and asks who he is.
After much vacillation, he dismisses his taciturnity.
“Mankind is my name”, he replies.

The time fleets on, the cars move on,
The Man is lying naked.
Sru Wils Jun 2016
If I am what I feel
Then I am a tissue paper,
White and jaded!

Rough hands ripped me out of the closet
Twisting and twirling me,
Shredding me into a million splinters!

I know not, whom to blame
As I get hurled into the abyss
And I resign to grim darkness!
Next page