Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Em Feb 4
I'm the theory in your head
I'm the theory that's painted red
Planted in your garden bed

The choir of furies in your stead
The pack of doubts that never fled
She's the monstrosity that tore you to shreds
And I'm the ghost that saw how you bled.
idc idk what im doin
Yordi Jan 30
I sleep early to see you the next day
I really don’t care what my friends say
The time we spent Is amazing
Having laughs, sharing jokes
***** I only see you ones a week
Why did you have to be so unique
How can someone like you have me so weak.
It’s funny
I used to read and write
Laugh and type
But now I can’t
I’m falling
And as the frustration grows
Mountainous procrastination as I try to remember
My mind can’t stop writhing

My body moving
Head saying yes
Sentences halved and mashed and forgot
Frantic boredom
As I fill filled space
The wave of papers
Books and words
That I’ve neglected
Hit me greater than before
The yells, tears, bad grades, hurt
Take me all at once
Under water, out again
Some day I’ll drown
I stopped working on this for a while and just finished it. Try to spot the stylistic difference from the times I stopped and started.
LWZ Jan 29
You’re standing on my head
My face is flush
And wet
I’m sinking further into the cement
Until there’s nothing left

sarah Jan 22
silence, my heart beats too fast for acting normal
blank stares, you catch me reliving the same daydream
where i confess and you feel the same
but, every time i wake up

i missed the part where you said you loved me
or did you even say anything?
i guess it's all in my head
why would you love me when you could love her instead?
Sky Yang Jan 22
sometimes. i live in my head so much.

i look in the mirror and
i'm an actual,
physical being. (whaat?)

and when someone comes and speaks to me,

" can see me?"
then they always say smthng like "you're bUggin"
Lydia Jan 21
I have been having a lot of dreams lately
about running away from something

but also heading towards somewhere at the same time,
in every dream there is a destination that I never make it to,
before I wake up
maybe that is my subconscious way of telling myself I am looking for something, wanting something, that is unattainable right now,
that all the running I’m doing is clearly a waste of time
and maybe if I stopped trying to get somewhere for a second,
I’d have time to see where I already am
Curtis Owens Jan 20
I squander my time
I wander and wind between the pillars of despair in my mind
crawling my way through mazes made by “Phases” in my mind
trying my best to find out what it means to be normal.
I hear that storm calling out all the time
thunderclouds battering my mind
the darkness that rolls in on all sides.
My smiles come and go with the tides
betting my life on rolls of a dice.

Who is it that deicides that I have to feel this way?
Who is it that decides the worth of my life?
who is it that decides I should feel this pain, or behave astray or be taken away
from my mum: when I was young.
I don’t have the power to be okay,
I don’t have the power to end my days
or let go of my pain.

why can’t I be like them?
why can’t I think about cars and tv?
why do I think of stars and poetry,
or the feel of wet grass beneath my feet?
my thoughts
Next page