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Skyler M Jul 2022
Get into your seat, writer,
Find your home inside the ink,
Construct the walls out of paper,
Your desk out of pencils,
And your pipes out of hollowed pens.

I know you fell for the feeling,
But it's easy to get lost in it all,
If you walked away now,
I know you'd go insane.

Upon your mirrors there's words,
Reflections that spell your introspection,
Flip it around cause it's too much noise,
Cause, writer, the sound is burdening you.

I know you fell for the feeling,
But it's easy to get lost with it all,
Crashing down on your thin walls,
I know you're going insane.
B Jan 2022
I'm my mother's daughter
It's in my genes to cry
The littlest things set me off
When I was in third grade
I cried at my standardized writing test
It wasn't hard, I was just stuck
I love writing
I'm good at it
I always have been
But I couldn't handle the pressure to write well
That my entire life was based on my grades
and how well I scored on tests
And wrote about a three page story
I cry when I'm frustrated
When I could do a math problem on my homework
When I couldn't remember simple biology questions
But I did well on the tests
So they assumed I was fine
I assumed I was fine
How could I not be fine, I did well
I was talented
I was skilled
And I was doing well
My life was too good for me to be upset
I had to reason to be upset
And no one realized I might no be ok
Until I stopped eating and lost 15 pounds
But even then I told myself I was fine
I was eating less because I was doing less
I wasn't using as much energy so I wasn't eating full meals
I only at a tiny portion of my already small plate
But I was eating so I was fine
I moved out and started school, fully online
I was lonely
But I had my roommates
So I was fine
I couldn't bring myself to go to the class I thought I would love
I was failing a class
I was doing nothing to fix it
I was starting to hate writing and reading
But I had a plan to leave my major
So I was fine
I failed my first college class
But everyone gets one mistake
Everyone screws up once
It was during covid
Everyone is struggling
So I was fine
Everyone else is fine
So I am fine
And I keep telling myself that
In hopes that one day it'll be true
I am Fine
Isaac afunadhula Sep 2021
There was the moon and sun before the beginning of time
With a point of reference they sang to the most High

The moon rubbed words of praise around the stars as He stretched out light to his child covered with mud who cried out as he worshipped

The moon and stars rejoiced to the son of God who stood with glory and might

The sun sobbing with overwhelming joy bowed down and sang all day to His true king in Heaven
I wrote this when I thought that I had lost everything but there I was inspired to write this poem
Michael May 2021
I've sailed over the oceans,
under the storm clouds I've been.
To prevail should be your first intention.
Don't give up, but try it again.

The waves come and push you all over,
and there's nothing you can do but wait.
Time tells of false and true lovers.
Sometimes the hour is late.
J Mar 2021
there are secrets that I
have trouble admitting even for myself.
and less yet more than myself
admitting to others.
I can spill some dark secrets
some entirely perverse
secrets and
yet there are some that I cannot
I cannot
even talk or think about
or imagine
and therefore I will not speak
you will not know.
hm. this sat in drafts for a while. nothing too too much, but you know what I mean. maybe one day I'll write about it.
Michael Feb 2021
Life is like hanging off a ledge
above an endless drop,
and I can't stop looking down.
Love is the gravity that kills.
Caitlin Faykus Nov 2020
When the depression hits
I suddenly become empty
It's like the world around me has stopped spinning
Life becomes dull
And at this point
I would do anything to feel something
Because the nothing is killing me
But then after awhile
When the nightmares start to fade
And my world resumes its rotation
All of the emotions start rushing back
And at this point
I would do anything to go back to feeling
I exaggerate everything.
The pain under my eyes.
The strain in my muscles.
Every time, it’s a unit darker and heavier.

There’s a relief; a moment of ecstasy,
In over describing things.
I feel real.

A bubble of air sits in my veins.
It stings.
It burns in the gaps.

How do I honour it?

I try.
Every time.
With a unit darker and heavier.
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