Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
VanillinVillain Dec 2022
As alone I walk these emptied streets
the only rhythms heart and feet
I all around am sure I see
myself amidst the trees.
But no it cannot be, says me,
I am no scarecrowed bag of bones
whose clothes hang slack
and innards seep with leaves.
I am a man, methinks I say,
a human living breathing man
with no such predilections wrought
for suicidal sentiment.
It cannot is not mustn’t be me,
that body hanging limp in-tree,
that bullet ridden slumping form,
that sorry teenage lover-boy.
~5/12/21, written for a creative writing course
birdy Jun 2022
Mellifluous red noises
flow out from a violin like arm
with a bow of steel
and a song of death
birdy Apr 2022
Hands travelling over me,
I'm scared, holding back tears.
My heart pounds trying to fight back, but I'm paralyzed unable to protect myself.
And he holds me as if I were his to adore.

Now I wonder if I can ever be held again.
Io Apr 2022
figures in the tree line
make me shiver
eyes from the treetops,
faces in the river
silhouettes of men
wallowed in the shallows
leading me to the gallows
whispers from the shadows
The tendency to see meaningful patterns in meaningless information
Moon Wright Nov 2021
my family believes
in demons and angels and spirits
but not mental illness

they think that seeing Shadow People
are a religious thing
and is something to be prayed about

but when I complain
about my delusions and hallucinations
they call me crazy and say
that I'm making things up

everything has to do with religion
in this **** house
and everything bad
is something to be prayed away

a made-up construct by humans
is more believable in my family
than realist illnesses of the brain

i'm tired of it
I'm sick and tired of this ****
Datore Fargo Nov 2021
I saw butterflies,
on my toes,
last night.
They fluttered down,
from the ceiling,
calling my sole,
their home.
Onyx wings,
somehow sparkle,
in the late,
early hours,
of dawn.
I ponder,
will they,
carry me,
to my end,
this time?
Only wishes,
and the anxiety,
of being lost,
this time.
I dream,
of freedom,
from reality.
It’s mocking my,
birthing them into,
My brain,
the pieces,
I’m drowning,
I should be,
Recently I’ve been sick, I’ve been having seizures, hallucinations. Unfortunately we haven’t figured out what is wrong with me, it’s neurological. I start medicine today so I may disappear for a while, but this poem is the closest I can get to expressing me again. I hope you enjoy.
Banele Msimango Jul 2021
The dream so vague yet vividly
Reoccurring untill in focus.
And there you are
Your face
Your shades
Your smile
and you spoke.
The sound of your voice, nautical across my spine
Quelling the day's toils in my mind.

But now acutely awake
still wanting to be hear your voice
still wanting to see your enchanting beauty.
It's a shame hands of a dreamer grasps only air.
To the lover who never was
Calla Fuqua Dec 2020
I wish my tactile hallucinations would give me a massage,
A warm hug from my non-existent mother,
A kiss from my long distance boyfriend.

A twisted fairytale

My hallucinations
They know what I fear most
And they want me to be afraid
They feed off my terror
They get off on my sick brain
They know what torments me.
Arachnophobia’s favorite game to play
The spiders
Come out of
My skin
They’ve been waiting patiently
When I’m most vulnerable
When I’m isolated
When I’m helpless

I wish my tactile hallucinations would
**** me
I am not actually suicidal
scrawny Jun 2020
This is my life force
my only life force
A pill that would make
my pain go away
A pill that sends me
to my own dimension
A pill that makes me
fly so high
that I can feel the
stars at the tip of my
As I float to deep space
I realize there's nothing
to breath in
and found myself
gasping for oxygen
that sweet sweet oxygen
as I hold on for dear life until
I realized that I've been back stabbed
by my life force my only life force
Hamies May 2020
usually, i see you in my hallucinations
when i'm too high to think about reality
but now, i see you all the time

during sunday afternoons sitting next to me on the floor reading the old love letters you wrote me

standing next to the fridge watching me how i make myself a cup of coffee to taste something else besides the taste of your lips

at night, you're even laying next to me and you're smiling at me like you used to

&' even tho my bed sheets were washed endless times after you've laid with me on them, they still carry your fragrance

and every time you appear anywhere by me
i start talking to you
i tell you how much i've missed you
i try to admire you as long as i can
'cause i'm afraid that at some point
i stop imagining you
forget about your face
that some day you become a blurry memory
inside my head
and that even the drugs cannot bring you back

please do not vanish from my hallucinations
it's the only thing i've left from you
Next page