Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
wild flowers
growing in the rough

let them grow
where they go
thriving sure enough
Sam May 20
I am a piece of paper.

I have been cut down, and put through a mill.

I have been tossed by the winds, yet tethered to every word written upon me.

Words written in black ink, spelling in all capitals that I'm useless, and unlovable.  That I am in the way, and that when I am out of the way I am forgotten.

Words written in blood, saying that I have no reason to go on. I will never be accepted; that I am not enough.  

Words written in invisible ink saying that will never be seen.

My paragraphs are blotted out, crossed through and rearranged by careless editors.

My crisp texture, and white color gives way to ***** boot prints.

I am rife with tears and crinkles at the hands of careless of writers.

I have been cut down, and put through a mill.

The truth is though...

I am a piece of paper.

I have many uses.

I can be your origami, a love note, or an airplane.

I can be an interesting article, or a beautiful story.

I can be the tear stained page of words that move you. There, amongst the chicken-scratch and scar tissue, I have room to write my own words.

With caret marks I correct every word I
ever let define me.

My story isn't written on me.  The words, and the changes made,  themselves are my story.

One thing this piece of paper has learned, is that you should never give people the power to write in
permanent maker what should only be written in pencil.

And you cannot control the whipping wind you whirl in, but you can be a page worth a second look.

We are all worth a revision.
SWebster May 15
The weeds grow long and tall
Curling into the crevices.
The grass has died back , yellow and withered.
I turn my back because it breaks my heart to see the flowers trampled.
I haven’t taken care and I haven’t planted.
This land has died and I can’t bare to look.
Eli May 15
My mind is a minor flutter;
Looping movies within ultimate stutters.
I'd tell you I'm feeling better,
But I am a stick of butter.

I look into gaze of grateful maze,
Only to pop amongst unholy haze.
My mind is beautiful,
But what is the craze?
My ego deserves to jump into my idiot blaze.
I hope this is a phase.

Little do I know that I am an end;
Whether I am today or tomorrow, it depends,
Though it will come soon.
The red blends with my toothpaste.
I am falling apart
I can feel it
How long will I last?
Let my stamina tell you when the time comes
Empire May 4
I always turn this hate to myself
Because it’s easier I suppose
To just believe I’m ****
Than to face the possibility
That I’m suffering
That I’ve been damaged
By the ones I thought loved me

It’s so ******* hard to fight
The programming in your mind
When you’ve been raised
Playing games for love
Never knowing acceptance
Being stripped of privacy
Your mother telling you
Your tears are an embarrassment
Ridiculing your emotions

So instead
You hide
You learn to sob in silence
You learn to hate yourself
Because it couldn’t be them...
They couldn’t hurt you
They love you

... right?
by Michael R. Burch

What good are tears?
Will they spare the dying their anguish?
What use, our concern
to a child sick of living, waiting to perish?

What good, the warm benevolence of tears
without action?
What help, the eloquence of prayers,
or a pleasant benediction?

Before this day is over,
how many more will die
with bellies swollen, emaciate limbs,
and eyes too parched to cry?

I fear for our souls
as I hear the faint lament
of theirs departing ...
mournful, and distant.

How pitiful our “effort,”
yet how fatal its effect.
If they died, then surely we killed them,
if only with neglect.

Keywords/Tags: neglect, starving, dying, perishing, famine, illness, disease, tears, anguish, concern, prayers, inaction, death
Lexi Snow Feb 28
You finally found that one person
that was meant to be with you,
but in the process you had to push me away.
Now we have to deal with the fact, that
you are okay with abandoning family,
you created neglectful problems between you and I.
Yet you expect me to be okay with it all,
that is something that would never happen.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry,
that I couldn’t be a part of your success,
but I am still looking for my person,
still looking for my success. Believe me when I say,
I will be fine without you in my life,
since you have abandoned me countless times.
Sad to believe that I am used to the abandonment.
I will say this now, I will miss you
and I do hope that your success gets better,
but I can’t be there when you get that success.
Knowing that I am okay with you walking away
makes me terrified,
you were supposed to protect me,
to keep me safe.
Instead all you did was make me feel like everything was
my fault -
so I apologize to you
for leaving you behind in my way of life.
I hope someday you can understand why I chose to leave.
I wrote this for my college class and I ended up writing this and it was just a lot of pain.
Lydeen Dec 2019
I wonder how it would feel,
How exactly your face would crumple,
If you knew that exactly ONE offhand comment you made to your daughter when she was twelve, ******* calling her chubs and saying she should work out, handed her a reason to reaffirm her biggest insecurity and caused her several years of eating disorders.
I know how you would feel.

You wouldn't, you alcoholic *******.

Hell, at least I ain't fat anymore.
Go burn in Hell
RC Dec 2019
Oh but Mama, the liquor feels so good in my system
so warm in my blood
I'll bet you never thought I would've listened
but now look at me
filling your shoes, so lost in my boots
I look a little something like you would've
I believe I would reckon.

And Mama have you seen
what a mess I've let these men make of me?
Most of them built on apologies
but they mean what they say
and they like to say it when they're mean.
Oh, Mama,
you should see the things you didn't mean to teach me.

Mama? Please don't be sad,
or hurt, or guilted, or shamed,
you did the best you could with what we had to our name,
My heart's bigger than most
and my eyes are wider all the same
I'll hold it all on my shoulders
I've learned to balance peace with the pain.
Next page