Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
aisha Aug 2018
can
two
depressed people
learn
to love
each
other?
can they?
sadgirl Feb 2018
o, darling
daylight has never been your most flattering
light

and how could it be?
you never sleep,
because life is but a dream

like that old
children's song
goes

dear god of boujee
women, the ones with
bloodstained louboutins

let me autotune myself to sound inhuman,
say my prayers to
you

in the dying light
of the atl
freeways

my only hymn i have to
offer is that of
migos

and instead of bread and wine
i have lean and
xanax

o, darling
our eyes will never
age

and new money, who dis?
will forever be the closest thing
we have to a mantra
Gang gang.
TK Nov 2017
Today I poured out the devil’s lesser friend
For days I starred at the concoction that remained in my bag.

Finally over a period of withdrawal and being ill
I had been clutching onto a bottle of syrup tightly... Unsure if I would change my mind,

And I did, multiple times I went to reach for it
Yet I restrained, subconsciously waiting for a period of weakness-

Knowing in that moment I’d turn back to the bottle
Letting the purple syrup ease my pain, suffering and distress when I needed it most.

BUT Today...
Today, I followed through with my plan
I snatched the readily mixed solution and poured it out straight into the garden

A hard step for me to take,
A difficult move for me to make,
A choice that had to be made.
Her
She was
a shy, sensitive
young woman,
with small
hands and
lean, long
fingers that
beautifully
graced the
pencil as
she wrote
poetry, or
rather, the
whispers of
her heart
within her
small leather
notebook,
whenever
she became
curious, her
dark, lustrous
brown eyes
would glimmer
in fascination,
her entire world
would become you,
she was not
particularly
beautiful
but her heart
was pure,
she would
remain hidden
through her
poetry
as though
she was
listening to
classical
music,
the streams
of violins
are the
winds
tousling
her midnight
hair,
she was
a dreamer
of the night,
though
quiet
In her
demeanor,
always
deep
In thought,
perhaps
trying to
understand
and shape
you, or
thinking
about the
simple
beauty
of the
moment,
she would
see the stars
when everyone
walked past,
to appreciate
what others
could not see,
as a light
hidden
among the
leaves,
she was
the depth
once unseen,
now clear to
the one who
came closer,
she would
place her
palm on
her fair
face when
deep in
listening,
as if it
was, the
painted
portrait of a
poet,
she always
held a cup
of warm tea,
being content
In her recluse,
until she would
look into your
eyes, and
you saw
through
her
soul
Anomaly Apr 2017
They said If I took cough syrup that I could die
Slowly I gave the escape from reality a try
But I drank more than the recommended amount

After a while I lost count
The liquid tastes best mixed with sprite
Friends pushed away , and confusion in sight
The devil brought out my innocence one night

I layed crying on the bathroom floor
And the devil out the door
The purple liquid down the drain
And nothing to escape from the pain
Äŧül Apr 2017
Come, let us dance right now!
Hold my hand and put the other behind me!
You take one step backwards,
And then two steps forwards now!

Then I will repeat the same,
And I will let you lean back on my arms,
You do so with so much grace,
Such grace that even flowers blush.
My HP Poem #1499
©Atul Kaushal
Leila Valencia Nov 2015
With a thick branch around my waist
I must not be allowed to complain
I want the warmth within my feet
As you sway and fall back and forth
I'm desperately climbing my way up
It is a large feat, but I can see that my eyes do not stop at the top
They stop at the sky
Next page