Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
vonny Apr 2020
The feeling of the pencil in my hand scratching against paper wasn't familiar but i liked it

The pencil accidentally stabs a cut into the skin of my hand and i cry out in pain

I can feel the pencil rolling away from my hand and the paper

I squeeze the skin together, trying to close up the scratch

Funny how quickly life can change in an instant
honestly this is so bad but anyway i wrote this about how quickly a relationship or something can change without even noticing it.
Zack Ripley Nov 2019
Putting the pencil to the page is like watching your favorite band live on stage.
Your heart starts pumping. And for a moment, you can forget all of your pressure. All your regret
Artem Mars Feb 2020
I’m a clear
lead pencil I’m
here but no 1
sees what I do I
make marks but
you don't care
to see them
You can erase
them, but,  you
can't see what
you erase  I
could’ve been
anything,
But I had to
be invisible, I
might as well
have been dead
Dead, What
a funny idea
Death, Would
we be gone
Can we come
back? Do we
get choices?
I wouldn’t come back
Gone
Gon
Go
G
I tried to shape it like a pencil, almost there
Ash C Feb 2020
i was told how to pick up a pen and write
i was to scribble in certain ways to make a symbol
they said it would ground me
it would connect me
what am i supposed to connect to in the first place
they showed me how deep
how deep it could be once i picked up the pen
i could write whatever
no pain
just give it to the paper
a paper doesnt feel
it cant cry
scream
laugh
comprehend
die
it just cant
it cant
so why would i not give it my pains
i could be free

but a pencil cant be free without its paper
thats as far as i will get
I spewed this nonsense out in just a few minutes, while I feel like I've been staying up late for hours, yet it's only 10 p.m
ellie Feb 2020
I write in pencil
so my thoughts remain temporary

Rubbed out
erased
never existed

And I never confronted their concrete weight
as I sweep the rubbery remains of anxiety with my bleeding fingers

Well let me pour
my heavy fears onto a page
and maybe one day
lead will turn to ink
24.1.2020
Sylph Feb 2020
I decided to draw today
to let her out
my demons been getting restless
The words I long to say
they just
Wont come out
So now
Im turning to a visual
Spill of words

That puts everything aside
Disconnecting everything in my brain
Letting my hands take control
The pencil
To freely dance across the page
To let out whatever needs to be free
That I cant see

Letting the thoughts
The pictures
The words
That I have never seen heard or felt
to come out
Be free
Gabrielle Jan 2020
My pen wore red, and scathed a struggling stroke
Black became it better, until feeble nib broke

Blue cried abiding stains, after much impatient rigour
Green was inconsolable, and pink was unconsidered

It was led who was left when all else lacked
That was until rouge eraser attacked

Is it a conscious activity of the precarious pen
To cease work as you require it again and again?
Maria Etre Jan 2020
Time gave me blank papers
A strong heart pumped ink
Courage pushed me
Experience turned pages
Ups and downs published moments
Sunshine gave me inspiration, so did rainfall
&
( ______ )
handed me a pencil
Insert muse name
Atlas Jan 2020
I’m trying to express how I feel like I did as a child,
Through crayons and pencils
Pressed into paper until they break in two.
How can I feel so hopeless
Doing something I used to love to do?
Like I did as a child
I make myself small and cry in my closet
That painful sobbing that hurts your throat
And convince myself yet again to give up.
Next page