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Brandi Clark May 2021
I hear a voice
Screaching noise
Is it in or outside my head?
Is it mad?
Is it sad?
Is it my brain
Or my heart that's dead?

Well ill cut it out
Slice it up
Take it out to the back
To the streets
To the thugs
Pass it off as ****.

Can you feel me?
Can you hear me now?

Ill shine my shoes
and get my coat
They'll never know
Ill be on top
Be a rock
Be the star of the show.

Am I experiencing reality yet?

Well this is what
Staying up til 5 am does
Ive got an itch that I cant scratch
Im covered in membrane and dust.

Sharpin my knife
Dont think twice
Ill disect the top layer
Take out the bad
Leave the good
But then there is
Nothing there
At all.

Try to put
It back in
But it doesn't fit
So ill serve it on a hot plate
Let you take it all in.

How's it taste?
Whats it like?
Don't ask the price.
Is it hot?
Does it burn?
Does it stick to your tounge?
You can't afford it anyway.
You cant afford it anyway.
12/5/2014
Maria May 2021
To fill a void of broken glass
I inhaled,
I absorbed,
And consumed my past.
Tried to bury it under a pile of ash
And suffocate it with a wiry cord
To no avail!
Because, like a restless panther,
Some unconcealable part of me roared
With an unquenchable thirst
For blood.

I looked at the panther’s golden eyes,
At its slender, shadow-like presence
Wondering what it could so despise
About my very essence
But mostly,
I stared, mesmerized
At a row of white, perfect daggers
That had, no doubt, heard many fearful cries
Before mine.

So I ran, but not fast enough-
For the panther ran faster
Called out my bluff
And leaped to cover me
With a curtain of ink-black fur.
Sensing disaster,
I froze in place,
Flames seizing my lungs,
Having lost the chase -

- And then there was silence.
Pia V Apr 2021
When I feel unable to take a deep breath,
And these shallow hallow skips hasten,
it doesn’t catch until I compress my ribcage flush against my spine and it feels like they’re knocking against one another in what I imagine is a bony xylophone playing a low note that reverberates at the base of my throat.
It feels good for a second but only just that.
And then I take another 10 to 15 cursory breaths that slip off of each other,
hoping this restriction, this deprivation, would make the next One Big Deep Breath so much more satisfying, so much sweeter.
When I’m in that moment I think

Is anything sacred?
I get scared that maybe we’re so empowered that we’ve moved past the need for sanctity.
And the fact that I worry about this, that I need this world to legitimize having something to cling to, maybe that means I’m not empowered.
And what does it mean today for me not to be empowered? That I’m not so brave? That I have so much privilege that lets me live in this space where I don’t have to be so brave?
I wonder why sacred things seem so exclusionary, why only certain lands, certain experiences, certain people hold this dominion. And if something was everywhere could it ever be sacred, like air or dirt, but also like pop music and printed t-shirts.
I get a bit lost in these thoughts for a while and then notice that I can in fact breathe normally again, which is good news, and a relief.
And yes, I think to myself, air is very sacred. But only when you need it, or more specifically only when you’re conscious of needing it.
And then my thoughts evolve into something kinder like,

Can anything be sacred?
Can I let things be sacred to me, even when I have them already, in abundance?
Can I let go of this puritanical idea that fear of loss is a prerequisite for value?
It also implies, Can I let myself hold on to moments that I want to hold on to and not question whether it makes me weak or dumb or immature? Or even, can I allow myself to question it, but know that the answer, no matter what it is, isn’t an insult or a deeply troublesome flaw? It’s just an observation at a point in time, and the ego doesn’t need to bare the brunt of a lashing because of it. Maybe this is a type of empowerment, which is a realization that makes me feel good, confident even.
Which leads to a bolder question,

Is everything sacred?
And can I conceptualize that everything can be sacred, without turning it into a paradox? In both absolute and relative terms, that by seeing everything in this world as sacred, it doesn’t negate the concept itself, and in turn doesn’t mean that nothing is. It just means that it can all be valuable. There is inherent wealth in it all. And wow, what a calming thought that is. Maybe because I am a part of ‘everything’, and so this blanket definition of value covers me too. I breathe easy to that idea, aware now of the steady inhale and the significance of it all. I can close my eyes and take comfort in the slowness, relax a clenched jaw and let my mind hypnotically revolve around a question that’s answer is yes.
chang Apr 2021
How do i end this?
How do you get out from something
that rattles your ribs almost every night,
and render your thoughts useless on the bathroom floor?
How far can one fall from grace?
How deep do cuts run?
How do you crawl out of something
that you've carried alone for so long
it almost feels like a second skin?
How many nights should I still spend
on writing letters that burn my hands?
How do you forget ?


- how do you go on?
Peris Wambui Apr 2021
Anxiety..
Sometimes it ***** to be you,
Losing everything you knew,
Earning nothing,
Feeling useless, becomes the daily dose,
Fake life, fake living,
It's all we are left with.
Nothing feels right,
Everyone becomes boring,
You can't do anything right,
Perfection becomes a fantasy, a dream,

Thinking we moving forward,
But in reality taking a step backwards every time,
No one seem to notice your efforts,
Not even a single achievement,
Because we are ****** up,
Living a life that's far from normal.
A loner,
Soon, a goner.

Over thinking turns to anxiety,
Anxiety to stress,
Stress to depression,
Depression to Self-harm,
Suicidal thoughts creeping in.
Life's worth, doesn't make sense anymore,
Nothing is working out,
Just fake smiles and bleeding hearts.

The blade becomes your friend,
Because all you want to feel is pain.
When you look at yourself in the mirror,
You just wanna convince yourself you not pretty enough, you wanna see all the scars,
You wanna look at all your imperfections from a complete, different, cold level,
Just to get those tears,
Getting into a fight with your friends,
Just to convince yourself you are alone.
Looking for trouble everywhere, because you wanna feel the mess,
More reasons to hate life,
To hate you.

Victim of Insomnia,
Late nights, your daily routine,
'Cause you wanna feel the silence,
You wanna get your demons to speak out,
You wanna drown into your ocean of thoughts,
Swimming in the waves of negativity,
Sad songs spicing it up,
Just digging deep and rethinking,
Meditating on whatever you wished would happen to you.
Because all you see is death in every corner,
A car running you over when on the road,
A fire outbreak when sleeping,
All you see in your problems is making use of that blade under your pillow.

It's already 3am,
Your monsters calling out on you again,
Like a bittersweet rhythm,
The voices getting louder,
The bed becoming colder,
Holding on to your pillows for dear life,
Screaming in silence,
Wishing for someone's presence,
Someone who could just understand how you feel,
And not tell you to be okay,
Or do this or that, cause you've heard all that **** before,
Someone to hold you, and not try to make you feel you can do it, because you can't.
You just want support, not assurance, not hope, not encouragement, no nothing.

Anxiety, like a wrecking ball
Crushing down my efforts,
Losing more than am winning.
Low self-esteem knocking,
Failing in every success,
It's too much to bear,
It's okay that you care,
But i can't have it fair.

Tired of hoping and waiting,
Efforts are fading,
Yet the forces am facing,
Are doubtfully strengthening,
My demons awakening,
Can't bear the noise,
Most in a high voice,
Freezing me like ice.

Tryna be alone,
Only to be lonely,
Tried congregations,
Only found them boring,
In love with constellations,
Counting a million stars,
Just for the night to pass,
Castles in my mind,
With angels singing hymns
Finally peace in the cold nights.
Anxiety at its Peak.

©tiana💞  ©Nml💎
cal Apr 2021
waking up in the middle of the night
struggling to breathe
searching for anything my eyes can find
noticing all the little statics of reality
this is a losing fight
and no one can save me
here, there is no individuality
sleeping is micro dosing death
and when i realized that
eternal slumber didn't worry me as much
Dhimss Apr 2021
Panic and Perplex were angels,
                   Until God, grounded them
                                                       Mid-Flight.
Haiku
KyleB Apr 2021
The limp body laid on the floor
Motionless
Fairy lights outlined the cool form

Impossible
To move
The weight too heavy
Crushing
The whole world

the fairy lights are burning

Body and light
Will never touch
And it stings
It already burns
But it cannot warm the body

Different colours
Different brightness
Various behaviour
Glowing
Burning
Blinding

Fading

they will all cease
When time comes


The scene is romantic - the consequence is not
The bright success, expectations
Failure
The failure is in the middle

Nobody talks about its darkness
Lights are the hot topic.

Society
Amanda Hawk Apr 2021
The night clung to me
Like a cold sweat
Pressing my dress
Against my skin
Until the dampness of my panic
Ran with my mascara
I nestled my keys between my fingers
Makeshift Freddy Krueger
Lashing out at shadows
As they slinked around my feet
Fear sliding slowly along my face
And wiped it away quickly
So I could forget
I was alone
In the middle of the city
At night
Leering glares and catcalls
Loitered doorways
Tugging at my sleeves
Twisting their claws in my hair
Offering up glasses overflowing
In broken promises
And blatant lies
As I tried to rush by
Looking for a vacant streetlights
To hover, fluttering near with paper wings
So I could forget
I was woman alone
In the middle of the city
At night
30/30 Day 3
M Solav Mar 2021
Here is just another thought
Going down the stream,
Just another thought.

Leaking from a tap
With the label "purity"
Just another trap

  The obsessive mind gullibly bites the lure,
  Obscured by clouds connections,
  Concealing the large picture.

    How every blast creates a reaction!
    Panic attacks to draw the attention.
    Where’s the crack in the grand ****’s wall,
    So we can strike down the reservoir?

Diverting the river that must belong to all
Before our eyes - wider worlds shrinking small;
Cradled by the uniformity of lies that appease,
Those grazing in the dunes still tarry at ease.

It’s no wonder!

Insecurity has grown into a most lucrative market
As danger becomes the currency on which to place the bet;
Release the flow from the control that profits hold fast,
Question the junk food that's become the pasture of our mass.

  Continuous diversions
  Feeding everyone’s greed
  Fulfilling false concerns -
  So easily believed!

    How every blast creates a reaction!
    Panic attacks to draw the attention.
    Will the facts in knowledge’s downfall
    Let us unshackle the repertoire?
Written on August 9th, 2017 — as lyrics for a song yet to be released.


— Copyright © M. Solav —
www.msolav.com

This work may not be used in entirety or in part without the prior approval of its author. Please contact marsolav@outlook.com for usage requests. Thank you.
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