danny 17h

Shoulders sag,
Weary but determined,
The reflection is my only constant,
It is more than enough.

The resolve behind my mask and shield
this is as strong as I will ever be.
That keeps me going.
It has too.

Burning maps and guidelines,
Instructions failed me at the start.
The swiftness of my feet,
Have served me well, thus far.

No time for external love,
The past is the past,
When one door closes,
I created the wind at my back.

Hope ceases to amaze me,
need for approval non existent,
Inner doubt is my ying.
Self trust my yang.

Riot 23h

it's not that i don't trust people,
it's just i keep all my hardships to myself.
if i were to tell you everything on my mind,
you'd race for nine one one.
if you asked me all the things i know you're begging to ask,
you'd see me on my knees at the alter,
confessing my sins as if i believed they existed in the first place.
it's not that i see you as a threat to my personal privacy,
but if i were to be honest there'd be tears in your eyes.
I'm sorry.
You always wondered if i truly meant it when i spoke it and i'm hear to tell you sorry is my honest truth
because if
i wasn't
i wouldn't bother
saying it
and if i was patronizing
you
i would just apologize,
but never sorry.





if you were to look at my pinterest page,
you'd admit me back into the physic ward.

Yikes
danny 3d

Damn
Words just flew from my mouth
Wish I could suck them back.

I know that you know that I know,
Crimson floods my cheeks.
What is this gonna cost me?

Hands on your hips
"Oh really" on your face.
This is hurting us both.

Creator of the time machine
Will save the world.
But I have to deal with this now.

You're beautiful on the outside
Which is easy to deceive
Your beauty on the inside
Is like a rancid disease

You thought I treated you unkindly
Though I gave my heart to you
My love was real and gentle  
Now my love is gone that's true

It is you that broke our love
Our friendship you refused
I will never forgive you for this

I regret that I forgave you
Letting you feel satisfied
It's you that I hate now
The one I truly despise

I now hate you so deeply
I will never forgive you again
Sadly I love you
Though I hate you
With all my heart

It's hard to explain the feelings I have
danny Aug 12

When I said that I was busy,
I just couldn't bare company,
When I said that my phone had died,
I just did not want to disappoint the  Angry Birds.

The dog did not eat my homework,
It was not done and we both know I do not have a dog,
When I took forty minutes to have a bath,
My muscles did not ache I just need my own time, relief.

When I was late for work,
I set my alarm but I was warm and like to snooze,
When I hugged you back,
I was lonely and nothing more.

SwordNPen Aug 11

I'm a coward I pretend I can write but I cant
i'm just a kid pretending. Real writing is about
being honest and vulnerable. I haven't been
honest with myself in a long time. Real art takes courage
and that's not something I have anymore. Why does it
have to be so complicated. So after this sentence I'll
be as open as a deep cut so listen to everything that's about
to pour out. I'm a lost boy without Neverland. Im shy, afraid
to grow up, afraid to fail , and afraid to find out who i really am.
For now I'll continue to be the pretender.

like a monster
under your bed,
grief knows
where you hide.

it knows
where to go
and how to
hit you
where it hurts.

it can take
the shape
of welcoming arms
and swallow you
in one gulp.

one moment,
you are high
on the top of the mountain
and the next,
you are at
the ocean bed,
not knowing how
to swim back
to shore.

you suffer in silence
because you're not sure
anyone would get it
or even listen.
you don't let yourself cry
because you don't want
to feel the sorrow
drip down your cheek.

it's a constant battle,
trying to come to terms
with how you feel
but also not drowning
in your own feelings.

i suppose the world
doesn't owe me
anything,
but i thought
it would be
a little more fair
to me.

grief doesn't care about
who you are.
it will find you,
when you least
expect it.

grief,
we've become good friends.
you know where i hide
my secrets,
my scars,
and the things that hurt.
i never wanted you to
take up such a big part
of my life,
but alas.

i haven't overcome
you yet,
one day i will.
i'm still waiting
to make peace
with my sadness.

Sometimes my mask slips.
You can catch me off guard
and shine light onto parts of my soul
that I thought only I could see.

You might expect the reaction to be groggy;
Dusty after so many years of being hidden.
But I take in that light like air - necessary,
staring straight into the possibility of a kindred spirit.

It happened once. And that tiny breathe of air,
so innocuous, sent me spinning and
started a hurricane. Part of you resonated with me.
Your truth had the exact same heat of mine.

The same forest wood feeding the flames.
Except you elaborated, and I realised that we
were entirely different wildflowers,
in the same bunch but mismatched from root to petal -

Just grown in the same decrepit soil.
It felt like you had comforted me by wrapping
a soft woolen blanket around my shoulders.
I am allergic to wool, and all it does is burn.

Darkness, again. Yet,
I remember you at times, Ky. When the world feels
so dry it seems nothing will grow,
I remember that you sprouted in the weeds, too.

Spoken Word Poetry
tc Aug 2

To whom it may concern,

I am fragile. I will pretend I'm okay when really my shoulders are collapsing under the weight of the heavy universe I do not feel a part of.

To whom it may concern,

I am tired. I have been running from things I dare not face since monsters began appearing under my bed and now all I'm left with are mirrors. I would rather join the monsters under my bed.

To whom it may concern,

I guess you could say I'm running from myself. Maybe I am. All I know is that the reason I hear my heartbeat so clearly is because my chest is hollow and I push people away for fun, like they're the dinner table I'm sat at and now I'm full.

To whom it may concern,

My name is Victoria, the meaning of Victoria is victory but the only thing I've been victorious at is ripping my own soul until it bleeds black. I've been trying to dye it red from the blood of others but colour fades and I'm tired.

To whom it may concern,

I am made up of layers, some are impenetrable by choice and some are just hanging under my fingernails. I can't seem to get them clean.

To whom it may concern,

I am a riddle, to some, I am a muse. For me, I am trying.

The most honest poem I've written.
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