Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Please excuse the boundary
of my sadness;
it's not normal, I'm aware,
maybe, even maddening.

But, the horses need hay.
They are hungry.

Long evenings
full of shadows,
surround my blood
stained lazy bed.

The horses need hay.

Let's gather our
senses, and get to
the fields.
Make-believe we
have purpose and
direction.

Isn't that
the mindset we need
to overcome the largest
lie of them all.
(Repost)
Here is a link to my YouTube channel, where I read poetry from my recently published book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, which is available on Amazon.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ciod7laprVU
That's kind of cruel,
Stone cold and unrelatable,
Though I think I know a guy,
Who will relate with you.
                                                                                  How uncouth! I love it!
                                                              Say, how about we go have a chat?
                                                                Hmm, I thought you were tough,
                              I guess you're too scared to back what you're saying.
Sometimes it's just too difficult to handle evil these days, thank god for Carl.
Maria Etre Feb 5
"I am over the moon", love said
"But how can you breathe?" logic asked

"I can't", love smiled
"How are you alive?", logic asked

"I am catching my breath", love replied
"Up there?", logic replied

"Weightlessly",
love closed its eyes
and fell
Zolayshia Feb 5
A flower.
So pretty and pink.
Free to roam.
Met a light blue one.
The light blue was the only other kind she's met.
Pink fell for Blue's Charm.
Time passed on.
Pink and Blue made a little pastel purple.
Pink is distressed.
Blue keeps wanting to leave.
Pink wonders if she should just end it all.
Pink is tired and feels alone.
Pink just wants peace.
Maybe Pink should find her peace.
So Pink takes a knife and leaves.
Blue never knew.
Blue went to look for Pink an hour later.
All he saw was Pink in the back yard.
On the ground withering away.
Bleeding out slowly.
Blue took her into his arms one last time.
Pink looked at him.
She said. "I love you Blue."
She closed her eyes and floated to peace.
Blue lost Pink.
Blue lost his hope in life.
His dream.
Pastel Purple.
He didn't get to be a father.
He went to find the same knife Pink used.
He stabbed himself.
Laid next to Pink and Purple.
Closing his eyes wrapped around her.
Bleeding out.
A flower.
So pretty and pink.
Dainted in red and sorrow.
Zolayshia Feb 5
A passionate flame.
To the stars.
The moon.
The sea.
Everything in between.
Trapped in a loop.
Pain.
Twisting in a thousand knots.
Lashing out in sorrow.
It burns.
Eating at the skin.
Melting away.
The flame can't escape.
The flame dissipates.
Burning away at the seams.
The flame withers away.
To never be seen again.
No matter how much the flame screamed.
The flame wasn't heard.
The flame never had room to breathe.
Nobody to hear it's screams.
The flame burns out.
Only leaving the heat it once had.
Sara Barrett Feb 5
It begins with a whisper,
a shadow stitched to her womb,
its weight pressing like a secret,
its roots spreading unseen.

They call it normal—
the blood that floods like rivers,
the cramps that steal her breath,
the clots dragging her body down.

Pain coils in her pelvis,
a fire that burns without end.
Her bladder aches, her bowels rebel,
her back bends beneath its weight.

They say it’s just being a woman,
but how do you explain the storms?
The tissue growing where it shouldn’t,
the scars binding organs into one.

She carries fatigue like a second skin,
her energy drained by invisible wars.
Her body becomes a battlefield—
every nerve alive with rebellion.

Doctors speak over her pain:
It’s all in your head, they insist.
But how do you imagine blood that stains,
or pain that splits you in two?

One day, she stops asking for answers.
She stands tall in the face of dismissal.
Her voice rises like thunder:
This is my body; I know it best.

Her womb is no longer their battlefield;
it is sacred ground she reclaims.
The shadow no longer consumes her—
it becomes part of her story, not its end.
"Pain as a Shadow" is a powerful exploration of chronic gynecological pain, vividly capturing the physical and emotional journey of living with conditions like endometriosis. This poem confronts the dismissal of women's pain in medical settings, challenging societal norms that normalize female suffering. Through visceral imagery and a defiant voice, it traces the path from silent endurance to empowered self-advocacy. The piece resonates with themes of ****** autonomy, medical gaslighting, and the reclamation of one's narrative in the face of invisible illness. It stands as a testament to the strength found in acknowledging one's own experience, offering solidarity to those who have faced similar struggles.
Kai Feb 4
Yeah, I'm flirty
You know I'm *****
***** minded; that is
Get every question right on the quiz
Is what I couldn't do
'Cause I was too busy thinking about you
Normally when flirting, I'm smooth
But this time, I was slipping up
You made me fall
I fell for you
Is what I thought I couldn't do
You missed my call
Wouldn't answer at all
You made me fall
You broke my heart
I thought I was flirty
Yet, you tore that thought apart
That was back then
Now I got people begging for me
As if I was the honey to their bee
Now I'm back to being flirty
Hopefully I won't be done *****
Once again, like you did to me
Now I'm the key you need
The key you need to unlock your heart
You lost it when you tore me apart
You really just tore yourself apart
Now you're stuck lonely smoking a cart
I now have people all over me
Sticking to me like I'm the honey to their bee
A poem my friend asked me to publish onto here!

Poem made by Karli
Last night I saw a ghost
It was raining
The streets lit up
I saw this ghost
It stood right in front of me
We exchanged meaningless glances
I saw in it my own reflection
Staring back at me
A ghost of myself from before
It haunts me
Wherever I go
Whoever I see
It follows
The past is constantly in a state of limbo between existence and non-existence
The Big Dipper
An asterism of the constellation
Ursa major
Seven bright stars that
Have been there
For the best and worst
Of my life that I can remember
Over the age 3
That is why I want to take a picture
Of the group of stars
As it has guided me through
Everything
Not just telling me where north is
To me the Big Dipper
Is proof of god and his/her will!
Tell me it’s just stars
And I will say that it is more than that it’s art
MOHD LIAQUAT Feb 3
No lamp, no candle gives me light,
It feels like endless, darkest night.

My heart is now a silent place,
No voice, just echoes, empty space.

Dreams of love turned into pain,
Each memory brings hurt again.

Like travelers, people came and passed,
But someone in my heart still lasts.

Dust of distance, scars so deep,
Where’s the end? This pain won’t sleep.

Yet I kept my hope alive,
A firefly in me survives.

So come to me and shine so bright,
And fill my soul with warmth and light!
Next page