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Sean Briere Mar 29
There are thousands of frogs waking up in the forest behind my house
A choral cacophony erupting from the bog
Like them, I'm starting to thaw
Soon I will bellow my song at the heavens
Just because I can feel I'm alive
I, too, have been in stasis
Frozen beneath the moss and rock
Stopped my heart, and forgot to live
It took the smallest amount of warmth to remind me
I want to do more than just survive
I want to open my mouth wide
Guzzle down every drop of life
Leap to the next footing
Come alive under the full moon
Feast on all the morsels around me
Savoring every speck
I want to live
Kyle Kulseth Mar 25
Stunted, the same, by
          highs
            and
           lows
           alike.
A jubilant parade inside
           some nights.
Silver linings? Ticking timebombs! Infinite splinters!
No good time left unexploded.
Rusted blood iron and red wine
filling my eyes.
          Tired of feeling "weird."
          Tired of knowing I'm being.

I wish I wanted anything in a way that didn't
                              scare me.
I wish I could love anything in ways that
                            couldn't hurt--
                           --inward or out--

                    I wish...
                    I think...
If I sit on this bench...for a long time,
and keep perfectly still...but make subtle
                    eye contact
          with some of the crows...
they'll accept me as one of them?

                    Teach me to fly
                    Or, at least, hide
                       in plain sight.
        A new vocabulary for my quiet
              when it starts to get mean.

Entangled, alike, by
          lows
          and
          highs,
         the same.
Convenient jailbreak for a Name--
               --Say it.
Chewing paper? Eat the playbook. Shred this formula.
No good night goes unpunished.
Rusted blood in my mouth, and red wine--
crying outside
                    Tired of being fragile
                    Tired of knowing I know.

                   And how 'bout the crows?

                   I'm good for a laugh, they suppose.
Linden Lark Mar 27
Do you ever feel like your story is being written for you?
Maybe that’s why I write—
because when I look down, at least I know it’s mine.

How did I get so lost,
so far from what was once so bright?

Page after page keeps turning,
but my pen ran out of ink long ago.
Time keeps passing,
but the story unfolding isn’t me.

Maybe my story was never mine.
Maybe it belongs to someone else.
Maybe I’m just a book collecting dust
on a stranger’s shelf.

Maybe that’s why I write—
so that somewhere, buried in those pages,
there is at least one part
that is undeniably mine.
Emilia Mar 26
The taste of blood is like rust
Its inky black
running down the side of my cheeks from my hollow heavy eyes

The smell of shadows is like death
Dark and stale and cold, freezing my stone heart heart to my lungs

The feel of dark sharp black lines, is sharp and stinging
It overwhelms my head and floods my mind till all I can do is cry

And then the blood flows freely from my eyes
The blood of the taste of rust

Shadowless forms come and call me
They think that they shine
They think they have body’s of light and hollows of gold
But they really have horns and tails with sharp spines

They never wonder what it is, whipping at their backs
Yet when the call to me
There tails spear my chest, and leave me bleeding dark sharp lines

The lines that overwhelm my head
and flood my mind until all I can do is cry
Then the blood flows freely from my eyes
The blood of the taste of rust

Then when I come to my place called home
I can feel the shadows breathing in all of the air that is supposed to be mine
Growing bigger and bigger
Like the shadowless forms that come and call me
That whip me with their tails
Making me bleed dark sharp lines
That feel so heavy that all I can do is cry
And the blood starts to flow from my eyes
The blood of the taste of rust
Some may feel that their body is not what it should be. That their blood tastes like rust, that the shadows around them smell like death, that they are filled with dark sharp lines that will overtake them at any minute. To those some, know that there will always be another like you, and that we will never all feel perfect and that no matter how broken you may feel, or how broken the shadowless figures are making you, you are here for a reason. You always will be, the world will never feel the same without you in it.
ViP Mar 25
Intrusive thoughts
They come when you least expect them to

Uninvited
But somehow still make their appearance
Loud and clear

There may be a purpose
In its call for attention
But there isn’t, really

No matter what you do
Driving
Cooking
Working
Reading
Taking a shower
Planting a flower

They.Will.Always.Come.Back.
PAVANI Mar 25
Am I pretty like crotchet
because my mind's in a knot?
or am I a billionaire
because I have a penny for every thought?
Am I the nemesis of time
because I think too quick or as slow as
the last drop of lime?
None.
I am my mind's
the mind's not mine
But one day, they shall intertwine and
we shall be fine.
Que Mar 23
i wanna go to sleep
and never wake up
i want the world to stop,
to halt mid spin
and breathe me into the nothing,
the black abyss that awaits
deaths kiss, and id beg
to be released
to be let go of
break me so i can go home
**** whats left of my sanity
so i can check out
and never come back again.
You’ve overfed me everything you had at your disposable
Staring up at me as I’m hanging from the ceiling.
Chocolate, syrup, honey, lollipops.
My belly’s rumbling.
It’s scaring me.
Sweat continues to wash over my pale face.
With trembling hands I try to tear my stomach open by myself.
And there you are waving a bat right underneath my feet.
“Blindfold on or off?” You ask amusingly with a growing grin.
The black fabric peaking from your pocket which you ignore to take out.
I’ve lost. My mouth sewn shut. I can’t be saved now.
I mumble uncontrollably as you raise for the first blow.
It hurts, my whole body is ringing of burning pain, as I swing around fast side to side.
You spin for another blow with your eyes closed this time.
You miss.
You do it again, eyes open.
Pain explodes faster everywhere.
I’m muffling praying to fall any second now.
“COME ON YOU’RE GREEEDY YOU KNOW THAT?!!” He shouts jumping from below.
“OPEN UP!! GIVE ME SOME!!! I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING AND YOU DON’T SHARE??”
Tears are falling. I’m the one at fault. I’m the empath and you’ll do anything to make me feel this way, no matter what I do, it won’t be enough.
You overfed me and I ate so it was my fault.
You tried getting it all back but couldn’t expel it out of me so it was my fault.
You did your part, and all I did was intervene.
It’s all my fault.
It’s not you.
It’s all me.
Kai Mar 22
It’s a deep cut
Growing into these bones
I resented before

Where I am
God is not
Deadbeat killer
Overdosed alone

Light at the end of the tunnel
Is overwhelmingly bright
Blinded on my way in
Lack of navigation

Heart is beating but
It was meant to stop
This feels really dark to post here but oh well
I used to stumble through life
My world full of strife
The thoughts inside my head
Were riddled with bloodshed
I say farewell to that person
So my mind will not worsen
I made an extreme change
It added happiness to my range
If my poems gave any indication
My depression took a forever vacation
It's hard to articulate how I feel
So I use poetry to reveal
My body positivity is hard
But I won't let it be marred
I try to be my favorite support
But I need others in my court
I put in lots of effort to be content
But sometimes I just need to vent
My outlook on my future is positive
I won't be controlled by the negative
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