Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jme Love Sep 2023
I
   feel i must write
Im blue
Down in the dumps
I need a pick me up
But where do i start
There is no cure for
A heavy heart
If i could take it out and send it away
It would be a much lighter day
I fear tho it would come rite back
Stamped return to sender in ink jet black
It worked. My heart still weighs a ton but writing this poem made me feel alittle better and perhaps a bit stronger. I think ill make it through the day.
My Dear Poet Aug 2023
We walked together
till together walked away
We stopped the walking
and sat down to lay
wondering how
life is heavy this way
not to carry
together’s slack
and whether we could carry
together another day
if together
were to ever come back
to stay
Can’t live with or without them
Mark Wanless Mar 2023
the observer falls
into a heavy night and
ceases to observe
mikarae Sep 2022
there’s a deep, visceral anger that I seem to feel everyday
that no one ever talks about.
i wake up and my stomach roils with fury, wild and burning.
i eat breakfast and watch as my hand grips the mug, wishing I could shatter it against the floor.
conversation hurts with the acid I want to spit at my mother.
i watch action movies and ride roller coasters and go to haunted mazes and every scream I’m allowed feels like the briefest, most beautiful respite.
i look out at crowds of people and it feels like I’m breathing concrete.
i sit in my car and scream and cry and scream because it’s the only place I’m really alone and the guy in front of me stares through his rearview mirror.
i say that I’m tired but I really mean angry but I don’t know how to say angry so I just say tired and everyone is getting really tired of me being tired.
i remember when the anger was so big and I was so small and I only knew how to close the hatch of my mouth to keep it all inside because one time I let it out and then everyone knew about the anger and I came to the sudden terrifying realization that the anger wasn’t supposed to be evoked.
i am so angry and I thought everyone else was too and we were all in on some joke where we’re constantly hiding fury behind our eyes.
but I think, recently, I’ve realized that this deep, hot, painful, crippling, paralyzing anger isn’t entirely normal.
that not everyone wants to scream at their loved ones one moment and then stick a knife in their head the next.
instead the joke is on me, like I missed orientation and everyone seems to run like clockwork and I’m an angry little gear that’s rusted and out of place.
everything is so practiced and planned and poised and perfect and I just want to sink my teeth into it and rip it all to shreds, screaming and baring my throat to the sky, daring god to face me and bear witness to my unholy wrath as the blood of his creation runs down my neck.
anger grips me like a vice and lives in my stomach and I just want to have a conversation where I’m not trying to not throw the bottle in my hand.
just an angry little poem while trying to put words to how I feel sometimes. I’m ok, just hashing out some feelings
dylan Aug 2022
And just when I think
things are good again
it happens,
the saddening,
the angering,
the depressing weight of the world
catches up
and crushes me
Odd Odyssey Poet Jul 2022
To no fault of my own, the little I own
To the words that ask me to conform.
I feel so alone—in the deep chasms of a petrified soul.

An open door, shut by a closed mind to make a move.
Unwillingness of that to do.

Oh what a world to live in.
Searching, always seeking; in the depths be,
Of a tempestuous sea. I still can’t swim.

So comes that sinking feeling again. I’m sinking in
Deepest thought to the very END. My always sinking
HEAD. Especially when pride gave you a big head.
Amanda Kay Burke Jul 2022
Happiness so hard to reach
Now more than ever
Question that haunts my heavy heart
"Will I stay sad forever?"
I'm desperate for an answer
TS Jul 2022
An unexpected trigger arose today. I won a brass mirror in a raffle that I was able to take home to use in my house. The staff helped me load it into my car, but now I have to get it into the house.

I helped my friend, who won a shelf from that same raffle, load it into her car. She took it home and her husband helped unload it and put it into place.

All of a sudden, a wave of sadness washed over me.

I don't have that.

I don't have someone to help me carry in the groceries, someone to sit next too while I talk about my day, someone to offer me a hand with the dishes, or someone to help with the heavy things.

There's some sort of double meaning there that one could uncover. How I not only have to carry the truly heavy things alone, but also how I have to carry the emotionally heavy things alone.

So much of my life I have been independent - practically taught to be that way from a young age. It was expected that if something needed carried, washed, or felt, I had to handle it alone. Typically I would consider independence a good things, but this one wrecked me. It reminded me of how truly alone I am in this life.

Of course I have friends to talk to, people who can help me move if planned far enough in advance, and friends who I can have dinner with - but every one of those things is circumstantial and temporary.

I consistently try to be comfortable with who I am enough that I don't NEED anyone but honestly, sometimes that isn't enough.

I may appear fiercely independent and self sufficient, but inside, I am still that little girl who feels forced to do the hard things alone. The little girl who was taught that help and companionship is a luxury only some people find. You can't buy it, you can't manufacture it, you can negotiate it. There are just some things in this life that alone-people will never have.

It reminds me of this movie I saw where the main character is so used to being alone that she invents things to make her life easier as an alone-person. Specifically she makes a device that helps her zipper her dress without the help of another person. Its so sad to me that the world and the way it works is created for community, its created for people who have people. True self-sufficiency doesn't exist.

Now I'm forced to sit here with this mirror in the backseat, reminded by it's presence that I am alone, at the core, in this world.

So I'll walk out of here, go home, and sit alone on my couch, eat dinner alone, and cry alone, while the mirror stays, unmovable, alone in the car. Like me, forced to understand that without help, you can never truly be powerful enough to be completely independent.  





-t.s.
Next page