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holly Jun 11
someday.
you will find someone
whose words
form a bandage
which seamlessly
mends your wounds.
someday.
you will no longer
need to fight
in order to
recieve love.
someday.
you will lose yourself
in the eyes of your lover
but in the midst
you will find who you are.
someday.
you will lose sleep
not because you feel hurt,
but because you feel whole.
someday.
you will find your someone.
you will bask in their warmth.
& hold tight to their hands.
& I pray to god you will never let go.
someday.
maybe not today.
but someday.
holly Jun 11
you.
you became
from the 1,999,999.
so despite what it may seem—
you are a rarity,
a true force of nature.
out of 1,999,999
you were the one which
remained:
the one who overcame.
your emergence itself was a miracle—
so how could your existence now be any less?
on average, women are born with around 2 million eggs. so truly, it is a miracle to have been the one which was chosen :)
holly Jun 11
I remember the moment
I knew they were watching—
the moment they became of thin air.

but who were they?
our mothers?
our sisters?
our friends?
could they be everything
wrapped up in one?

so from that moment forward
I lived in a fear
of them staring & spying—
judging every last move.

will they always be watching?
god, please say they won’t.
holly Jun 11
my body is sanctuary—
my body is built of stone.
my body is always with me—
why im never alone.
and while it may be
a part of me,
this place is not my home.
this structure of bone and
mysterious matter is truly nothing
but a place to house my mindless chatter.
the rest is but dust,
taking up space to prove I exist—
to show i am more than my madness.
I am a heartbeat,
a brain wave,
a breath.
I am a sister,
a daughter,
a friend.
but I live in a body that
is not my own—
this is not my home and
therefore I may roam.
the newbie failure complex(ity)

the poems come torrentially,
hurricane, waterfall & tornado are working adjectives
worthy of the task, yet unequal to the unlimited army
of the written dead of unread poems and poets
that occupy the nether of blog, podcast, and poetry sites,
orphan stars in the un-salvaged junkyard galaxy of verbiage

a faceless wight, once alive, now permanently dead,
we shuffle march, chanting each our own newbie poem,
onward soldiers to ignominy and glory so fleeting,
we are forgot before we are remembered

this is life in poetry,
or better yet,
the worst of it, (sigh)
this is the poetry of lives


all for nought,
nought for all,
at least we pass our prison time
in the company of fellow strugglers
poem #1
sophia velasco Sep 2018
Feelings spilled on the moonlit paper
Heart on her sleeve holding it tighter
Pitter patter of heartbeats
Her favorite sound in her playlist

Wide awake under the blue ceiling
Another night with overflowing feelings
It's time to create artwork in silence
Where everything seems to make sense

Bleeding pen on her hand and memories in head
She’ll write before her feelings gradually fade
She's a fighter just to win her life
A believer of "Maybe soon everything will be fine"
etrealouest Sep 2018
It’s already 3 in the morning
My eyes are still wide open
I’m not even yawning
I’m not even doing anything

Staring on the ceiling
Right there I saw my world crashing
Right there I saw myself drowning
Right there all I want is sleeping
Sleeping and never waking.

Sadness lingering around my body paired with the emptiness that wasn’t evident if you saw me,
It’s here, right inside this **** mediocre body.

I beat myself every night,
Thinking is tomorrow really worth to survive?
My day goes by “yes I’m fine” when it’s actually “help me, I’m dying inside”

All I could ever think is to die
Dying fascinates and scares me at the time
Questions began to arise,
“It wouldn’t hurt that much if I leave everything in this world behind, right?”

It’s so unusual that one day you feel nothing,
And then the next couple day suprise, you feel everything
And when I think everything’s okay
There someone somewhere saying “something’s wrong today”

You think this is the day you can justify you’re definitely happy
Only to realize that later at night in the four corners of your room you’re incredibly lonely and empty.

And to be honest I don’t know why I feel this way,
One thing I know for sure there was missing inside me,
I couldn’t possibly pin point what could it be,
So I’m trying to fill it with thousands of possibility,
I ask myself “Am I going to be like this day by day?”

I never understood myself then,
Was there something wrong with me?
Was I over reacting?
Or this is really the real me slowly unraveling?

I couldn’t tell anyone what I feel
putting my feelings into words is so much to deal

But then I tried,
I tried telling them I’m dead tired.
And only to get “It’s all in your mind.”

They would say be positive
Or look on the bright side
I hope it’s that easy,
But it’s not, right now my mind is way way messy.

And how I wish I could control what I think,
And when a toxic negative thought felt like coming,
I could let it go away in just a blink.
But it’s not.
It doesn’t go that way.

I’m crying each night, crippling my own heart.
To the situations I am trying to brush away so hard.

I’m maybe the one to blame.
For the thoughts that hardly keep me sane.

And then one day I get used to feeling not okay.
I get used to the hole living inside
To the devil that’s speaking in my mind.
And lastly, I get used to telling people I’m wonderfully fine.

But I couldn’t help but to hope
Hope that one day
All of these ******* would go away,

hope to go back to the old me,
Positive, spontaneous, happy and carefree.
DJL Sep 2018
You cannot create a monster
and then condemn it
hate its **** features
it’s terrible gait
You cannot be afraid
to look into it’s cold eyes
touch it’s rough skin
or feel it’s hot breath
You must face the consequences

Because
when I look into the mirror
I do not see myself
but all of what you’ve made me
I see pale skin
and bruised lips
and bloodied knuckles
and a demonish grin
I see a monster
ready to do monstrous things.”
all my life
i've been preparing faces
to meet the faces that
i've met

friends
family
the man who delivers newspapers
at our doorstep each morning

i've laughed at their silly jokes
as they tossed their heads from side to side
in naive stupidity and their sheer ignorance
a pompous lot, the human race i tell you

i've acknowledged their staunch morals
and tried to make them my own
as they scorned at the girl in a skimpy dress
and chewed on mutton bones gluttonously

all my life, i've been trying hard
to blend in
with people who've shown me
that i don't belong with them

and tonight when i shed gallons of tears
i have only my bed and pillow to share
i've learnt that my sadness
is my very own
just a sad girl writing to survive
as he stood brave, staring, into the eyes of death 'are you not afraid ?' asked death.
smiling, he replied,
'do you see fear in my eyes ?
it's not death i fear, it is the living.
it's not oblivion i fear, it is the remembrance.'

as the fog lifted,
as he found himself to be stranded on this rock again,
his arrogant smile was no more to be seen,
his eyes were no longer fearless.
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