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mel May 20
Often I find the days never-changing,
Doomed to repeat themselves.

I, Inescapable,
Like a moth to the dim blue glow of fluorescence.

To escape is one thing,
But, to watch friend and foe revel in their ignorance is another.


Like a feline sees the world through a sheet of glass,
I may be doomed to the same.
I feel as if I am mute
kate cc Apr 20
At the heights of a Surrey valley
is where I stand alone.
The clouds roll in with attempted suppression,
wuthering, as one may say.
Yet they succeed and I do not.

All this vacantness on the moors,
in turn: suffocation.
All this gale of violence and madness,
not a single shiver,
but a private, intense burning sensation.

Would it set fire to the moors, the libraries,
and the red curtain theatre?
Or would it melt the defendant themselves?
I wish for the former,
yet I am already melting.

I put my hand on the gnomon-less sundial,
and still I stand alone
drunk on the all-consuming emotions
inflicted by these brick walls
or rather the crowds of unpredictability within them.
much less thought put into this one than the previous. this one's more of a go-with-the-flow led by my emotions during my writing session.
LETITFXRING Jan 16
Love me a Rider
Love so deep he loses
Himself sometimes
Because he's an outsider
He didn't chose this life
Finishing his line with
It chose me
So
He loses sleep
Paranoia stay
The pain lingers
It don't go away
Through trail and tribulations
What kept him alive was his medication
Please forgive me because I'm an outsider
I do no harm, I'm an outsider
Knowing everything street
Knowing nothing is sweet
Planning a Lic
Hoping he make it today
Hoping he make it another day
Loyalty first, Love Always πŸ’•
Zoe Mae Dec 2021
One day she turned where there was no bend in the concrete
Skipping in bare feet
It looked triumphant, but it was retreat
Far far back to the days before poetry
And gaudy words for all to see
She skipped into a past where she could keep it all in
Afraid to mutter a word
Not wanting to burden the wind
So she built herself a rocket out of satin and tears
She'll be orbiting Earth for the rest of her years
Zoe Mae Jul 2021
I tried
I'm spent
I give up
I relent

I quit
I'll just stop
I can't stand
I just flop

I'm broke
I'm a mess
I've no *****
I regress

I've failed
I won't fight
I'm lost
I can't write
Summer Jun 2021
Stranger to earth, to her body, to the church. I often wondered how she could remain stoic as her blood licked the grass blades at our feet, the moth falling with her finger, drowning with my grief into the ring of fire. How far can one go, she asked me, to live without participating in the circus, to resist clowns, to not register pain, family, injustice, rain. Look, I said, they endure, the sound, the visuals, the memory – episodic, yes, but they endure – people would not forgive bystander. The moth fell again, shuddering, struggling. And her finger, gushing with golden blood, was still pointing at the priestess, who smiled, and said, you decide, it’s your body. To sequester, draw a line on the snow, better with blood, but tears would suffice too – and so the stranger was repeatedly created and destroyed.
kayzamo Apr 2021
Who are all of you?
What are you?
Am I human like you too?
If so, then why is there a pane of glass
Separating me from you?

I've been out here in the cold,
Looking in my whole life.
I once tried knocking on the glass;
Gently tapping with my fingertips -
ra-ta-tat-tat.
I think the music was playing too loud
For any of you to hear.

Just when I was ready to accept my fate:
Freeze to death and meet my maker -
She took my gloved hand in her own
So we could both look in together.
I gladly accept critiques. Thanks!
Brittany Ann Apr 2021
Of all the things
I could have been-
I am a stray voice
of a peculiar tone,
bearing no face,
stumbling within a crowd
of congenial strangers.
I am an astronaut
trapped hovering above the Earth-
not truly a part of,
not really connected,
but an outsider left
in love with the world
and all its beauty,
from a distance.
I am the painting
from a surrealist mind
of no name
that hangs in the
shadowed, empty halls
of a foreign country.
SerenaDuru Apr 2021
Why is it that it is when I am most alone, I feel most present?
I feel like an alien on Earth. I do not understand how I was birthed here.

My home is beyond my physical state, my home is beyond my emotions, and even my desires. My home is where none of those things could dream to reach, in all their perversity and incapability. I will not hurry from Earth, but I do know that this does not even slightly resemble my home.

How blessed I am to know what I am not.
Diljeev Apr 2021
Where oh where is it in me
you still reside,
where is it you still hide,
irony in it's full stride
sees an outsider
on the mirror's inside.
I am but a corpse of our dead kin,
this is how it has always been
and always will be.
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