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Pauline Celerio Aug 2018
Wrote you a letter
With words I never said
Thoughts running in my head
From the day we first met.
I found us a reason
Why this couldn’t go on
You needed time to be alone
So you can be stronger than before.

So when I said goodbye
It was for the better
Better for a reason.
When I said goodbye
It didn’t mean I don’t love you
But I have to do this
for you to love yourself.
“Don’t let someone find you until you find yourself.” Truer words have never been spoken.
Dancing alone
With the company of a thousand stars
Dancing alone
Waiting for someone to love you as you are

I’m the midst of a crowd
Always in, but never a part
Sitting to the side
Creating your own art

On the outskirts of the world
Observing but never knowing
Where you truly belong
So on the waves of the world you keep rowing

Never giving up
Even when the sky is black
And the stars are gone
You know there is no going back

So do what you love
Breathe in the view
And know you are enough.
A happy turn to what I normally write, I’m trying to be more positive. You are enough, your art is good, keep going don’t just do what everyone else is doing do what you love and know you look beautiful doing it.
Amanda Kay Burke Jul 2018
Exhausted from rapid obsessing
All I feel is aggressive doubt
To darkest hidden corners
My mind, heart, it flows throughout.

Deepest wounds make a home
Between buried thoughts in brain
Bleeding steady streams of uncertainty
I show nobody my pain.

Stomach knotted tight with effort
I wait for someone to notice
Difference in how I speak
I am in the background, something's amiss.

I am shouting "help!" with a silent mouth
In this world colors do not belong
Wondering why I overthink each  action
And why feelings persistently steer me wrong.

Get attatched very easily
To  the coldest, wicked, damaging touch
Let guys I fell for destroy soft parts
Denied truth because I loved so much

Pretty sure there is something wrong with me
A mutation somewhere in DNA
It's like no matter how great life is going
Somehow everything still appears grey.

Transparent, see right through my skin
Walking through crowds alone
Dreaming of better days
Harboring thoughts I own.

Long to travel far from here
Can't sleep with all this stress
My mind my biggest enemy
Memory I can't evict or put to rest.

Mistakes coursing through blood
Screaming to get on the right track
Frightened I am not capable of succeeding
Failures precariously balanced in a stack.

Images as clear as the instant they occurred
Until eyes distort edges, greatly exaggerate
Have to write to distract accelerating thoughts
Words and stanzas my reliable escape.

Always there whenever, wherever I am at
My brain a dangerous nest
Sometimes the ideas I overanalyze
Become tangled and knotted then manifest.

Wishing to be a better person
My value I cannot comprehend
Instead focus solely on flaws
Insecurity never seems to end.
I'm insecure, but what do I have to be secure about?
Sneha Thakur Jul 2018
Isn't  lonely another kind of high?
Of how each high has a low of its own.
As if they are the two rivers destined to meet, except there is no ocean after that.
It's just the high and the low, following each other, back and forth, like long lost lovers.
So just like people use drugs,
I guess I use my lonely,
To get a clear head,they say.
On nights like these, I dance with him, him being my lonely.
He creates so much space for me, drools with me, I wonder if I could breathe this time, and yes I do, in that moment there is no one between me and my fresh breathes.
No regrets, no bad memories, no hatred.
I am as pure as a new born,
As light as dandelion seeds,
As happy as humanly possible.
I guess this is called being high.
My mum once told me- ' love everyone but love yourself first'.
So as I pen down these words, packed beneath my sheets, I wonder shouldn't we be high all the time?
Shouldn't we be in love with ourselves all the time?
#lonely #alone #high #higher #depression #love #loveyourself #mother
Afia Jun 2018
I feel ugly.
Like,
the dark spots on a full moon.
The burning skin under the crisp sun.
The harsh stain of vibrant colours on a canvas.
The violent shade of the monsoon cloud.
The rustic smell of an old key.
The sad wrinkles on a tree trunk.
The tired stretch marks on a shabby body.
Or,
the birth of a life.
I feel less. I feel pigmented.
I feel lost. I feel strange.
This is my beauty to taste.
To embrace.
For years. people have been reminding some of us that how unattractive they look. Beauty can never be defined according to ''their'' perspectives.
slr Jun 2018
i know you feel bad
the applause are never loud enough
the smiles just aren't big enough
nothing is ever enough
but it's ok
just keep telling yourself
you did good
Just a random poem scribbled on a folder
slr Jun 2018
Beauty, why do you evade her?
Why will you not let her grasp you?
She searches for you daily.
Meals become foreign during her quest.

Why will you not let her grasp you?
She searches the mirror but only sees a mistake.
Meals become foreign during her quest.
The map on her body is not a treasure map to her.

She searches the mirror but only sees a mistake.
Numbers are more than a math problem to her.
The map on her body is not a treasure map to her.
Beauty, why must you hide from her?

Numbers are more than a math problem to her.
Her best friend is the floor of her shower.
Beauty, why must you hide from her?
Why will you not show her you were always there?

Her best friend is the floor of her shower.
The water washes all the broken parts away.
Why will you not show her you were always there?
She doesn’t need water to fix what’s never been broken.
I wrote this for a class assignment and fell in love with it. I struggle a lot with body image and felt it embodied a person's struggles with body image quite well. I felt the ending was sad but still happy which I try to do a lot in my writing and felt it was delivered well in this piece.

This poem style is called Pantoum. This means that the 2nd and 4th lines from the 1st stanza are the 1st and 3rd lines in the 2nd stanza and so on.
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