Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aurora 1h
Here I am, struggling through the battle of life,
Fighting the monsters that live inside me.
I’m tired — I want to give up, I want to run.
But their ****** laughter still echoes in my head.
Every wound they gave still bleeds, the pain still fresh.
Something inside whispers, “Let go,” but now I see—
It was never me. It was their curse that clung to me.

Here I am, waging wars I was never meant to fight,
Bleeding from wounds I should never have carried.
The pain still knocks me down, again and again.
I escaped their grip the first time I spread my wings—
But why did I have to flee?
When my angels left, I had no one left to turn to.
My cries for help were drowned by the devil’s laughter.
I watched my angels bow to the dark — and hope abandoned me.

Here I am, looking back at the wreckage of my path,
Their voices still echo, loud in my mind.
All the pain, all the memories fuel this rage—
My heart, twisted, filled with hate.
My broken mind hates the one I love,
And loves the ones I wish I didn’t.
So I built a fortress around my heart,
Forged in hate, it shields me from life.

Now I’m alone—surrounded, but alone.
I want to break free.
But now I realize…
I have become my own captor.
And escape feels impossible.

But still, I’ll try.
I’ll keep going.
Because I can’t give up now.
I am allowed to take up space
you are allowed to take up space
I deserve to be loved
you deserve to be loved
I have nothing to be ashamed of
you have nothing to be ashamed of
I am resilient
you are resilient
my healing is not linear
your healing is not linear
I am at peace with myself
you are at peace with yourself
on my healing journey without therapy
Madelyn Apr 30
I’m sorry for the times I silenced my voice,
Swallowing words to keep the peace.
For dimming my light to soften the shadows,
And calling it compromise.

I’m sorry for doubting my worth,
For the moments I let self-blame consume me.
For believing I wasn’t enough,
And letting pain define who I was.

I’m sorry for hiding parts of me,
Thinking they were too much to share.
For shrinking,
Thinking smallness would keep me safe.

I’m sorry for believing love meant endurance,
That devotion was measured in sacrifice.
For holding myself to an unyielding fire,
Just to prove I could stand the heat.

But today, I see it now—
Strength is not the absence of breaking.
It’s the courage to gather the pieces
And build something whole.

Today, I apologize to the mirror.
Not for the tears I shed,
But for the years I spent believing
I was too much or never enough.

Today, I give myself permission
To stand tall,
To embrace the parts of me I tried to hide.
I forgive myself.
And in that forgiveness,
I find the freedom to begin.

Today, I choose to love myself
Without apology.
Madelyn Apr 29
Sometimes I want to hate you—
for breaking our family.
No, we didn’t have children,
but we had Skye.
And in my heart,
we were our own little world.

Sometimes I want to hate you—
for the heartbreak that lingers,
for tossing me aside
like I was nothing,
like we were nothing.
But I can’t.

No matter how hard I try—
to hate you,
to dull the ache—
I can’t.
Because I love you.

And I know your reasons
weren’t about us.
You thought you had to push me away
to do what you believed was right.

But I hate that you couldn’t lean on me,
that you carried it all alone.
You took on burdens
that weren’t yours to bear,
and still—
I admire you for it.

I hate that you put us on hold.
I hate how you’re slowly erasing me.
The days are bearable,
but the nights?
The nights are endless.

I wake up expecting to find you,
to see a message saying you miss me.
But I don’t.
And I hate that
it’s always me reaching out first.

I hate that you chose for us,
without trying to find another way.
I hate that I still feel you
in the empty spaces.
I hate that I pray—
every single day—
for you to come back,
to say you were wrong.

I hate this fragile hope that won’t die,
the belief that somehow
we’ll be better—
that love will make us stronger.

But most of all,
I hate that I’m alone in this hope.
I hate the masks I wear,
the smiles that lie to the world.
I hate how much I miss you.

I hate that I don’t know
how to be near you
without wanting to hug you,
kiss you,
hold your hand.

I hate that I fear so much—
the thought of you
being gone for good.

And I hate
that no matter how much I wish I didn’t—
I still love you.
This one poured out of a place I rarely let others see. It’s about the tug-of-war between love and pain, between wanting to let go and still holding on. If you’ve ever loved someone through heartbreak, I hope these words sit with you gently.
Ahmed Gamel Apr 14
I met a version of myself,
A past that lived in quiet hell,
His shoulders weighed with untold truths,
In his eyes, the ghosts of youth.

He stood, proud but lost inside,
A prisoner of dreams denied,
I knelt in shame, a ghost of me,
Torn between what was and could be.

"You know," I said, "you've been this way,
Caught in a cage where shadows play,
But let me tell you, now I see,
You're still inside of me, and free."

He smiled with pain, the truth untold,
"I never wanted this, you know—
This life of striving to please the blind,
The masks we wore, the thoughts we mined."

But in his eyes, I saw the change,
A flicker in the dark, so strange,
And I realized, as time flew past,
We'd both been caught, both built to last.

Now here I stand, no more a slave,
No longer bound to past’s dark wave,
I freed myself, and freed him too,
The shackles gone, the world anew.

And though the road remains unclear,
I hold his voice, I hold it near,
For in his steps, I see my own—
The strength I’ve sought, now fully grown.

The shame, the guilt, they start to fade,
Replaced by light, by love’s cascade,
And in that moment, I finally see,
That all I sought was always me.
This piece delves into the internal struggle of reconciling with past mistakes and the weight of self-imposed expectations. The conversation between present and past selves brings out the complexity of personal growth and the forgiveness needed to move forward. It's about understanding that even in the darkest moments, there's a path to healing—by embracing the truth, forgiving yourself, and realizing that growth is a journey, not an instantaneous transformation.
the past
blood-covered thighs and arms
drip drip dripping on the blade
stinging showers
long sleeves in the summertime
unsticking clothes from my limbs
wincing when laying on the wrong side

the present
healed scars litter my body
retired blades no longer kiss my skin
painless showers
t-shirts all the time
smiles no longer forced
recovery
Ana21 Apr 4
I wear the mask of too many roles,
Caretaker, rebel—lost in their tolls.
I give, I bend, but never break,
Hiding parts of me for others' sake.

I ask myself, "Is this enough?"
Is my best a gift, or a never-ending bluff?
I wonder if they see the cracks inside,
The parts of me I’ve tried to hide.

When things go wrong, I pull away,
Lost in regret, in a sea of dismay.
I cry, I doubt, I ask, “Why me?”
Stuck in the same cycle, never free.

I fear they’ll see me as a lie,
Fake, rude, disloyal—just a disguise.
But deep within, I know the truth,
I hide, I shrink, to avoid the proof.

I suppress the honesty, the raw, the real,
For fear they’ll judge what they can’t feel.
I keep my truth locked far away,
A prisoner of my own dismay.

Isolation brings a fleeting peace,
But it’s the silence that won’t cease.
With the few who truly see,
I try to feel what it means to be me.

But even in those moments, I fear,
That I’ll be left, unseen, unclear.
So I wonder, in the quiet of night,
Am I enough, or just a fight?

I don’t know what my purpose is yet,
But in this struggle, I’ve learned to forget.
I’m supposed to lead, but all I see,
Are the shattered pieces of who I could be.

I carry self-doubt and endless strain,
Validation from others, my constant chain.
But in the dark, I’m left to roam,
Wishing for a place to call home.
This reflects the internal struggle of feeling torn between roles, doubting one's worth, and fearing judgment. It explores the weight of emotional isolation, the constant search for validation, and the silent yearning to break free from self-imposed chains. The rawness of vulnerability and the quiet longing for peace echo throughout. It’s a reflection on the pain of self-doubt and the struggle to find one’s authentic voice.
I need you to help me
answer the questions.

I need you to help me
take off my masks.

I need to see
the roles I am playing.

I need to hear
the lies I’ve been believing.

I need to feel
what I’ve been avoiding.

I need you to help me
become
who I am meant to be.

Please,
tell me the story
I’ve been telling myself.

Please,
my higher self,

show me where
I am hurting myself.

Show me where
I am neglecting myself.

Please,
my higher self,
speak to me.

Tell me with love.
Tell me with kindness.
my scars
should I be ashamed of them
the answer isn't clear
but what I know is
that I find them beautiful
they may not have came from beauty
but they grew to be

the scars erupted from pain and misery
I was searching for an escape
an outlet for my despair
I found it in blades

they marred my skin
but I love them so
I don't want to be judged for them
but I find beauty in the pain
80 some days clean from self harm
I used to stumble through life
My world full of strife
The thoughts inside my head
Were riddled with bloodshed
I say farewell to that person
So my mind will not worsen
I made an extreme change
It added happiness to my range
If my poems gave any indication
My depression took a forever vacation
It's hard to articulate how I feel
So I use poetry to reveal
My body positivity is hard
But I won't let it be marred
I try to be my favorite support
But I need others in my court
I put in lots of effort to be content
But sometimes I just need to vent
My outlook on my future is positive
I won't be controlled by the negative
Next page