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muteD Nov 2015
Guilt is a massive hurricane,
Wrecking havoc like a tornado.
Stealing your emotions, leaving you blank like a wall.
Screeching in you ears,
And clawing at your soul.
Smothering forgiveness in the flames of hatred for yourself.
Attacking your will to live.
Leaving you like a whimpering baby seal.
Or screaming like a baby craving human touch.
Until all hope is lost and

You're looking up, drowning in a sea of pity, and helplessness.

Screaming from the top of your lungs on the ledge:
**"I'm Sorry!!"
:) This poem was actually for my poetry class, but I thought you guys would like it too!!!
Soren Knight Oct 2015
Saturday morning were spent swallowed up in books,
Instead of surfing channels,
searching for a show to try and satisfy my thirst for adventure,
Yet each one was a satisfactory and savor-less as the last.

Instead, I lost myself in novels,
Books filled by dauntless tales
Of daring heroes and damsels in distress,
Of dreams who dared to dreams,
Of champions decided their own destiny,
Not deterred by the disheartened and the disturbed.

But these glory days faded away
because  apparently growing up meant
Giving up my golden dreams
To gluttonous people who tried to play god.

I sank low into my self pity,
Sadness slowly swept over my thoughts
Sorrow spat upon my sorry face
As I slowly submitted to the cold surrender of solitude.

Soon all music became mediocre,
Each melody, meaningless.
Mirrors became mortifying, for I could see the merciless monster inside me
turn me into a mental mausoleum;
It's mocking hammered through my malleable mind,
And bombard me with a myriad of maddening thoughts.

And so I isolated myself on a insomniac island,
alone with the insidious thoughts,
Inventing an imaginary monster to
inspire my icy heart.

Alas, there crept a creature, created in the cobwebbed corners of my mind,
cold and cryptic -
A creature I couldn't control.

It began setting siege against me,
Attacking the architecture of my mental mind mansion,
Tearing through my train of thought
Creating chaos that completely corrupted and  corroded my consciousness.



And the beast's name is Anxiety.
If you read this poem carefully, you can see that I wrote this poem as a continuous alliteration, with words with the same first letter mostly the same in most of the stanzas. Enjoy!
Stefan Smith Oct 2015
It was like the western movie kind of doors.
The kind that would swing back and forth
in a slow creaky kind of way.
The door lead into my kitchen from the living room.
I could tell when mom was angry
because she would use the doors
as a release.
I would watch her bust through them
and then lean against a counter
with her back facing me.
Whenever the subtle creaking noise subsided
from the back and forth motion,
she somehow always found a way
to gain her composure.
Like clockwork.

Except
the one time
that
to this day,
leaves an unsettling
motion of
helplessness.

Back and Forth.
My mom was physically abused by her boyfriend at the time. Tough moment.
You guys belong to the same place
Yet  you both go through a different phase

You guys  were brought up by the same person
Yet you don't  get along for no reason

You guys were fed with the same emotion
Yet  all you leave within is commotion

You guys look into same things
Yet what you see takes different wings

Dear Mind
and
Dear Heart,

I am not a battleground
where you guys can constantly fight,
Give me some peace.
Still finding ways for my mind and heart to reconcile
When I get low I get way down
Everyone's around
But this feels like a ghost town
I want to scream but I can't make a sound
I wish I could stay but I'm floating away now

I want to be alone
But I don't want you to go
There are words I can't say but I want you to know
I want you to stay but I'm going so low
Lottie May 2015
There's static on my brain,
Except I can't ground it
I can't make it leave
By wiping it away with my hand

When I touch it, it shocks my hand
And makes me shake
And fogs my mind
And I can't stomp it out

Panic is a fog of static
Its there, you know its there
But you can't. can't
Do anything about it.
Joshua Helmuth Mar 2015
All people have a Wall of Life painted white
"Draw, experiment, write, be free," it says
So why is mine still blank, save for a wandering line
This wall has begun to atrophy
Crumbling from the sides
It looks so frail
But this is more than I've been able to do
The cracks spread through the line
The line that goes nowhere
Breaking, peeling, fragments falling
What have I done, what have I done?
           Nothing. That's why you're in this mess
What do I do, what do I do?
           Nothing. It's what you do best
Please help, please help
           No one will come. They're busy with their walls
Go away... Go away....
           I'm the only one you've got
I've grown to trust the voice
It speaks the truth more often than not
But I want a different truth
Please help, please help
The atrophy is killing me
Mile Conde Feb 2015
And just when I could no longer live with the life I had chosen, when I had lost all hope and disappointed so many people...
Just then you came and you saved me *from myself.
With you by my side I will fight and defeat.
Ellenah Jan 2015
When the glass falls
from your fingertips
And you know you
won't be fast enough
to catch it
And you cringe,
waiting for the loud
sound of such a
fragile material,
bumping heads
with the solid ground,
to echo in your
ears.
That is what
helplessness
feels like.
(And though the
fall takes only a
second,
the wait is
so much
longer.)
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