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Elena Mustafa Sep 2020
Red blood drops
The tears of the body
Clear uncolored tears are the tears of
The soul
Blood red leaves
Falling from the trees
Are the tears of the trees
Nature
And of the
Suicide victims
Them leaves have blood
Soaked into them
Emily Sep 2020
A babies' cry is as natural as
the mushrooms uprooting--
puhpowee--
two births into the world; life made anew.

But then there is

the rush of train tracks outside the window,
or the sound of a wolf howling at the moon,
the feeling of bare feet on dewdrops,
and watching a hawk sweep down to a lagoon

Dance the tango with me.
two left feet I am spores,
two left feet I am floating

and then I crash down,
burnt paper and burnt cigarettes,
I have a cut on my face,
I have cut tulips in a vase.

I wish I could stand in a mirror and
confront what I see
feminine physique, feminine plastique
two beady little eyes staring back at me

my eyes tell stories of deceit,
my eyes tell stories of no sleep,
when I look in the mirror I don't see me but a
bare-***** woman numb in her defeat

these suicidal lullabies in rose-colored dreams
are how I say hello to the world for I am
cruelly stuck in its'
twisted seams

one day I'll drink salt water and
float out to sea
Edna Pontellier,
I am the real tease.
Entropy - the gradual decline into disorder

Puhpowee- a  Potawatomi word that means the force that pushes a mushroom out of the ground, the unseen energy that animates everything

Edna Pontellier- the main character in Kate Chopin's The Awakening. The novel ends with Pontellier drowning in the waters of the Gulf of Mexico
Spriha Kant Sep 2020
The desire to die as a mysterious girl seems to be a madness though but ain't for a girl like me !
Armand-DeamoJC Sep 2020
On the floor again
Unconscious again
I'm screaming for help again
Dad's working again
You have no memory again
The neighbors took us to the hospital again
Everyone knows your bipolar now
Everyone thinks my mom's crazy
She's not. Why do I have to fight to convince myself she's not.
Mom why do you give up?
Mom what's wrong!?
Mom is it us?
Mom is it dad?
Mom what happened?
WHY DON'T YOU WANT TO LIVE?
The beeping monitor disturbed my thoughts
And there you were again
Yourself, with eyes wide open
And a weak body once more
Being told what you did to *yourself
My mother was diagnosed with bipolar disorder 9 years ago. I found this in one of my books I used to read beside her bed. She takes her meds these days, but my whole life I thought it was my birth or the way my sister and I treat each other that triggered her, but it was her own childhood of being beated and *****
Brewomble Sep 2020
I can’t sleep at night
I’ve got elements I’m facing
And in my dreams I need it most to see this vision that I’m chasing
And if I wander deeper against this grain
Will I split this earth in two,
Maybe I was born in cycle, maybe I am recycled youth
Still
I can’t sleep at night
That’s when the lost come knocking
Sleep is what is needed most
A rest from a view that I am blocking
Resist the temptation to be tired
Because it comes and goes throughout the day -
Sleepless nights, up late wondering when I will stop standing in my own way
But still
Sleepless nights
I can’t sleep
Sleepless nights
Set me free
Sleepless nights
Lie a-wake
Sleepless nights
Stand in my-way
And tomorrow is here but for the moment so I get up to live the day
Another round of forgotten souls harvest the moon’s decay
And these sleepless night keep me from seeing a life from a brighter point of view-
I can’t sleep at night
So the next day is never new.
~Bre Womble
Alienpoet Aug 2020
There are galaxies inside of me
waiting to be explored.
There are stories to be told that leave you wanting more
there are religions in the chaos of my mind
but I am blind to all the possibilities,
fed by science’s facts
the love in my heart set on targets I will never reach
the knowledge I will never preach
the words I won’t speak
but I am the madness
the chaos the light the order the darkness
I am the shadow of a prophet
a wizard’s fairy tale...
Victoria Aug 2020
Anger throbs inside me
Like hot stones in the pit of my stomach
Burning and glowing a devilish red
Rage surges at my fingertips
creating hands that burn
Throwing and screaming and crying for hours
No relief from these hot stones
more fists, more punches, more screaming
nothing comes from this rampage
Dignity is lost, rationality is gone
the only thoughts are physical
Madness bunches the muscles in my arms and legs
building tension for the blow
loud clashes heard from afar
and still the hot stones are alive
You can't make me do anything
Go on, hit me
I'll hit you back
and with these hot stones I will not stop
until they are only an ember
a faint light in the darkness of regret
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