Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
ash Jun 10
the death: beginning

last night
a part of me died
and i hadn't realized it was taking its last final breath
until i finally couldn't feel it anymore

no amount of music, no amount of talking would blur it out
once again, a death in silence
i couldn't even cry or remorse for what i lost

such parts have died before
but this was my last try(i said so)
and it just hurt so much

i slept with a hollow
woke up with overwhelming numbness
feeling so, so blue

like you could hit me, and i'd cry for what of me died
not because of the pain
because it didn't even hurt—just went numb
and by that—
it hurt so much i didn’t have words

i laughed, went for a walk, listened to music, tried to talk
nothing.
it wasn't going to return.
it was gone.

the urge

like when light leaves the dying’s eyes
like when you watch someone take their final breath,
realize it's never going to come back

like a candle flickering for one last time—
the spoiled wax, of no point
like a bulb going out, its ligament being torn
like a child growing up, having seen oh so much—
they just don’t have any dreams anymore

a part of me died
and today i organize its funeral
with no watchers, no stand-bys
just like always

and to think i'd gotten anywhere
with understanding and accepting—
nowhere.
not even with people,
because they're the ones who killed me

the urge to make the call, ask—beg—why’d you **** me like that?
but just—who would even understand?

i can't even see the screen, writing this with a vision so blurry
eyes so swollen—i even breathe funny
i woke up
wanted to sleep
chose to get up
wish i could’ve slept, because i’ve been crying since

it’s been hours
i was lying curled up
begging for someone to listen
to hold—to just tell me that it’s alright
that i still can be loved like i’m whole

and the funny thing—
i’ve reached the number of deaths
no one in one lifetime could have caused them all

but i let people do it—
the same way, the same streaks


the acceptance

no hopes anymore
no positivity—
it’s just difficult
how do you suppose i can just get back up?

i taste the salt in my tears
find my nose runny

i went back to where i fought so hard to get out from
i felt it—
the death

how it went from barely breathing
to not breathing at all

how it went from staying still at the edge of hope
to crashing against all borders and falling off

how it felt like i’d been drowned, thrown, teared through, broken, dissipated
i—i just can’t

i’ll stop crying in a bit
and just go back to living
except with another part of me dead

i don’t even know how i shall mourn her death
too dumb, but she just had hopes

i’ll wipe my nose, wipe away my tears
get the ice-pack to bring down the swelling
for once drained, once it’s all out

either way, i’ll be a shell of what i’ve been all this while
a bit more hollow on the inside

this time it made no noise
the fall seemed to be never-ending
usually i heard it break, scatter—
the fragments and shards—i picked them up piece by piece

but this time—
it just fell
freefall?
i’m barely alive now

as long as this body exists
with the slightest of life on it
there will be no mourners for all the parts of me that are no more


the questioning

i’m a museum of everything i’ve ever loved
and there’s graves within me
of places where i lost a part of me

and often i don’t remember them all
but sometimes, when a situation asks one kind of mine
i step by the graveyard of my own self
and often mourn them myself

i meet people
and i give them some bits of me
ones i didn’t know existed long before i’d met the person in front of me

and then that part stays with them
they decide—often unknowingly—that it’s in their pocket
on their shoulder, in their fist
somehow never close enough to reside in their mind or heart

and yet sometimes
these parts get lost in people
watching them leave

often they’re simply handed back
sometimes they’re killed

and i need no understanding of how i end up giving them out
like handing candies to children on a halloween night
uncaring who gets which one, no favoritism
blindly trusting, i just head straight right in

always unknown what and how much they hold of mine
i didn’t even plan on trusting or attaching
and yet somehow i did
and then i’m left with nothing but the mere spirit

feeling the hollow
and the lost
how do i not cave in to death
and keep going on like a fool?
how do i live on when i'm barely alive anymore?

the dreaming

grief is sickening, like long aged sour frosting
numbness woven into it, disturbing and devasting and what not
it breathes like something real, coils in the pit of my stomach leaving my body to ache in silence, to reel, feel, and fear

sometimes i feel like i'm stitched together by borrowed light
but then i ain't any moon—perhaps a starlight?

there's parts of me made of people and moments that weren't even meant to stay
and in return all the pieces i gave of myself
so it would be right to say i'm a mismatched puzzle, always missing, never complete

this light burns, seethes, flickers, garbles, echoes
this grief doesn't scream, it lingers
like the perfume that i once used to wear
and that old teddy bear to hug
on nights when i used to feel hollowed

it wraps around my bones
around my muscles and my organs
especially my heart and my lungs

and it squeezes in tight, like a rope that's being pulled from both sides
the knot just seems to grow in size, blindness coming around my eyes

only i know it exists, this grief—
as it breathes under my laughter, only i can feel it

it splinters every single breath i try to take
ghosts all my memories, makes me want to forget
like a constant static—this pain is immense

i've got invisible bruises, oh so many—
you'd see them clearer if you were to see the way my eyes lie in their residues

the death: end

i carry my dead
like folded crushed paper notes that i don't wanna let go of
from the maybe's to the it's never happening
it seemed to be something, now it's a sad little nothing

oh so broken, everywhere i go
i offer parts of me like i'm a free use and throw tissue
but what can i do?
when they never ask for how i am—
only ask of me, how can i help?

went down the lane of thoughts—one that busied my mind and made the voices stop
they blurred, i held the blade in my hand, even my mind stuttered
you've been away and strong for so long, not again
but the pain was immense

yesterday a piece of me had died
and today i was told to

how could i possibly accept all this sorrow
and feel my heart do the free falls again and again?

i have three cuts
not proper—the blade was too weak
i tried to write 'loser'
got stuck at the e
lost myself
returned to and wondered:
perhaps i've got a thick skin

disgusts me—my own head
i still keep on wondering
why can’t i just be dead





this could go on and on
i live in a paradox
despise, wanting to still be alive
deny, wanting to die, despite my tries
a misfit in the world of those who seem to be natural
at finding their own places
i have no one to call my own
why would anyone even want me as their own?
0906-1006, yesterday was supposed to be 9, today 10 but i post it on 1106, please remind me of my death
Yashkrit Ray Jun 10
Time flies by,
Everything fades away,
Like a candle burning out,
Watching it decay.
Chasing the light,
Losing the day.
Life and dreams
Fading away.
Everything will eventually fade away like a candle slowly burning out. Its inevitable. So its important to enjoy every second and minute of our life. We always think about our future(chasing the light) and lose our day(present).
Mateah Jun 10
I've become convinced that love ends in pain.

Maybe not in eternity, but in this life, I believe that's true. Love in this life has an end already written. And it hurts. Giving into love is like locking yourself in a prison, knowing that a lethal injection is the only way out. I used to think that didn't matter to me... "It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." Well my defense mechanisms are screaming the opposite. They're making the part of love that's supposed to be sweet have a bitter aftertaste. I thought I would choose love, even knowing the end. Now love's been presented to me so nicely, but my guts are in a knot and that lethal injection is haunting me. How do you defy every self-preservation bone in your body for love?

To make it even more difficult, I don't see anyone else struggling with this decision. Other people just embrace the lethal injection without a second thought. They're okay with the trade. They don't even care if a key to the prison exists cause they would never so much as think about taking it. Love is worth it to them...

Why isn't it to me?

What made my defense mechanisms so heightened that I can't deny them for something I want. For something that would be really good... Maybe a key doesn't exist. But my mind found another solution: don't go into the prison. Just avoid the whole thing to begin with. So here I am, stuck in the middle. In what feels like a perpetual struggle between my heart wanting something beautiful and good, but my brain being in fight-or-flight mode trying to protect me. It's exhausting. It's a lot easier just being alone... My life was still so full...
The "happily ever after" side of me wants to believe I'll choose love. But my brain is a realist. And it has a hard time believing I'll choose the prison...
More of a journal entry than a poem... But this helped me process a lot when I was struggling with these feelings. Would love to know if anyone else deals with this...
alex Jun 9
A musician strums a sorrowful song
chords ringing loud enough
for his little girl,
who sleeps in the earths embrace,
six feet deep.

A woman files paperwork,
answers relentless emails,
and even stacks her grief in neat piles,
but it’s only her distraction
from nine to five…

A girl avoids mirrors
because it hurts to see
how she traced pain
along forearms and thighs
‘damaged’ ‘ugly’ ‘ruined’, she thinks,

A mother screams
about clothes on the floor
and unwashed dishes
because the silence of her broken home
scares her more than feigned anger.

A writer spends endless nights
scrawling lovesick thoughts,
and morose notes
on scrappy, tear stained paper
no one will ever see.

A teenage boy, never at home
swallows pills like promises
whilst he loses himself
in the haze
of a swirling smoke room

An old man looks out the window
of his care home
and names clouds after the ones he loved
while he waits for someone
who will never come.

If you look close enough-
Everyone is in pain.
And that’s the truth,
the real, visceral truth,
but we carry on.
We lost the baby
on a Tuesday.
No name, no warning,
just blood, and her crying
in the bathroom,
and me frozen
in the hallway
like a ******* coward.

She called it nature.
I called it punishment.
Neither of us said the truth:
we didn’t know what to do
with all that grief,
so we turned on each other.

I held her after,
but not the right way.
She needed rage,
I gave silence.
She wanted me to scream with her,
I whispered
and checked my phone
when I couldn’t take her breaking anymore.

She said,
“You didn’t care.”
I did.
But I didn’t know how to show it
without falling apart too.
And I thought I had to be the strong one.
What ******* that was.

We stopped talking.
Started sleeping with our backs turned.
Started looking at each other
like strangers
who shared a secret
too painful to survive.

And yeah,
eventually she left.
Packed her bags like
she was cleaning up a mess
we both made,
but only she had to carry.

We don’t speak now.
I don’t blame her.
I blame the silence,
the shame,
the ghost that never grew,
but still
haunts everything.

I still think about them,
the little one,
and her.
Both gone,
both real,
both things
I couldn’t hold on to.
Its been a year now since my world fell appart.
Ricardo Diaz Jun 9
She's flying away
For good this time
Fells like we only just met.

You make heaven seem so dull
With your beautiful laugh
and tumeric juice.

You were never mine to lose,
Yet I lost you nun the less.

Entangled forever,  
until the tides forget to pull us apart.  

You soundly touched my soul,
And left no finger prints

We said goodbye,  
I wished you well.  
You said  It's just words.  

I knew That was the last time  
I calmed your flames.  

My deep blue waters are void again.

I wait at the lobby of your old apartment.
Just to remember how it felt to drop you off.

Riding in the rain seems a lot less fun.
Walks in the park a lot less nice.
And songs in the dark a lot less paradise.

I love you gently,
The only way I was allowed to.

I really hope you don't read this poem.
So we can stay goodbye.

Knowing you,
you'll have another one of your
Gut feelings and just know I do.

You're actually gone aren't you?
A season in time
Azaria Jun 9
this year, another,
time grows, yet she remains,
hopes for a harvest,
yet dead crops
in unmoved soil.

the wind carries,
and unwillfully
takes her along.

this year,
intended as the great,
somehow feels like
a bird who's lost melody.

fearfully, blindly,
walks into those doors,
not wanting to go beyond,
yet still wants to leave
those timeless tears.
Kalliope Jun 9
What if I never get better? I can't beat the fear, I never get Noah's letters
What if I'm not the exception? I'm just the rule, ever gullible to affectionate deception
What if the damage is forever? We can't re-fall in love, our connection eternally severed
What if I'm only worth 49 first dates? You wake up on the 50th and decide this life you hate
What if I'm a Heather?  Exploding with you without knowing any better
What if I don't make it out of the car? Just wasted potential, never getting very far
What if I'm a bet you made with your friends? 10 days- I'm in love and your joke's end
And if I'm the bridesmaid, never the bride? I catch the bouquet- staring at you swallowing my pride
Hulu has all my comfort movies
Such a tragedy
This irresistible
Perpetual pining.
Always searching
For something more.

Stuck between
Shades of gray
Romanticizing
Everything.

A blissful Hope;
An endless ache.
Such tragedy
Sealed my fate.

© KSS 6/08/2025
Yashkrit Ray Jun 8
The clock that does not tick anymore,
The sea that does not soar anymore,
The joy that does not roar anymore—
My soul suddenly went silent;
The body does not feel anymore.
Next page