Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
SA Szumloz Jun 2020
Try, try, try
To get by
Try, try, try
Not to cry.

Don't look, block the noise
No matter how much
You miss her voice.

Don't feel, cast her away
So your tender heart
Will learn to obey.

Her love is like morphine;
Sweet, addictive, and lethal
Cut her out of your life

Or she'll take you down.
Love is powerful.
Susan Nishimoto Jun 2020
I don't want to let you down
and I hate it.
And now I am angry at you
for giving something I gave you.

A bit of jealousy came over me
when you two were together.
Now I feel left out and yell,
"Thanks for ignoring me!"

Then I miss the other part of me,
and I just want you by my side.
I shut myself out
and dare say anything,
for I am trying to tell you
how I feel without words.

Does that make any sense?
I'm not so sure,
but all I know is I got to
open myself up to you,
and then I'll be "OK."
SA Szumloz May 2020
My voice is a whisper of the wind
The sound of leaves dancing on a branch
Do you know what lies underneath my skin?
It's a heart that hurts and feels.

Stop with those wandering eyes
And look at me when I speak
I am not dumb, nor am I wise
But I know what ignoring looks like.

Silence bites harder than words
That's my conclusion to this
So, cast your eyes to the lord
And beg for his forgiveness

You never know when you'll be the ghost
In the presence of someone you love the most.
Alek Mielnikow Apr 2020
My palms in my pockets jingle
the keys to my cave as I make
my way to wherever I’m going.
My legs propel me, and my feet
dodge cast-off gum and dog dung.

And on my head rests a fishbowl.

An extra load on my skull,
but I don’t mind. I rather
like this bowl. It gives me
a barrier, and though thin,
the glass has yet to crack.

I hear my voice resound,
bouncing around the tiny
space, and I smell my breath,
minty fresh and foggy, and
through the fog the world and
its creatures are phantoms.

When I’m addressed, it’s like
floating in frigid freshwater
as they call for me from
the sheet of ice above.
They suspect I’ve lost
my soul in the fishbowl,
yet as year after year
goes by, I feel just fine.

I am an astronaut taking
a space walk, drifting around
and watching the universe
unfold under a sheet of glass.

And when I close my eyes,
I am in a womb, or a coffin,
and I often can’t tell the
difference, nor find much
of a reason to tell.

by Aleksander Mielnikow
If you want to hear me read this poem aloud, check out my Instagram @alekthepoet !
Luna Maria Mar 2020
the silence
hurts more
than the
I get replaced so easily
TIZZOP Dec 2019
monday: putting ***** plates aside
tuesday: ignoring the ***** plates
wednesday: being bothered by the ***** plates
thursday: intending to do the dishes
friday: forgetting to do the dishes
saturday late afternoon: meeting a woman in a pub who tells daddy that she has a dirt allergy
saturday evening: arduously scrapping off fatty chunks from the dishes, groaning about such a hard kind of labor and thinking about easier ways of cleaning ***** plates.

from saturday night until sunday morning: making love to the woman from the pub; putting ***** plates...
lifestyle remains lifestyle
change causes change
Next page