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If you're into poetry and people who're into poetry, join the community to remove ads and share your poetry. It's totally free.
nade 10m
she likes to draw on her body like a permanent tattoo.
but she has to feel the pain for it result

it is not a drug,
but she finds it addictive

she knows that it needs to be stopped,
but she needs something to calm her down,
especially to calm her mind down.

;

/2.30am/
she was shaking on the last couple nights.
she can barely sleep.
her head was hurt.
her heart was beating faster than ever.

she covered her face with a pillow,
and screamed as loud as she could, in silence

;

line by line she draws
hurtfully satisfying
then she decides to draw a line on her waist
a long strong one as a reminder of selfishness.
you may have not seen it.
III 1d
For all the words I've written,
I still feel as though I will die
Completely unexpressed.
Huwag ka mag-alala.
Sa darating natin annibersaryo
Ipagsisindi kita ng kandila.

Para sa mga damdamin namatay
At emosyon naibaon ko na sa lupa.

Ipagsisindi kita ng kandila
Para makita mo ang liwanag
Sa mundong panadilim mo.

Ipagsisindi kita ng kandila,
Para maramdaman mo ang init na hindi mo na mararamdaman.

Ipagsisindi kita ng kandila,
Pero huwag mo ito hawakan.
Mapapaso ka lamang at sa huli
Ay papatayin mo lang ito para mapasaiyo.
Lin 1d
I've learned to flex
the muscles of my heart
only
when I feel vulnerable.

Which is like saying
I've learned to inflate
my lungs
only
when I need air.

I don't remember the first time
I was hurt and I don't  
really remember the last
but I do know the distance
between the two was so narrow
joy was never
able to squeeze through.

Is joy real?
or is there only
sad
and
not sad?

I mean, think about it.
If joy was real;
if it really was
an emotion that we could possess,
why would we give it back?
Anya 1d
The broken hunch back
Yellow, wrinkled, and withered with age
Not a single fraction of his formerly radiant youth remaining
Choughs up a few more
Words to throw on a page
Desperate to rack up more followers
...
Anya 3d
They’re cheesy
Some of my poems I know
An imitation
Of ideas used to the point of being frayed
Tattered and in holes
No longer appealing
Until I take them
And give them a shiny new cover
Then they’re attractive...
To some
Who need the idea repeated to them
Or to those who truly appreciate poetry for its function as a medium
Through which ideas, old and new, are transmitted in
Attractive ways
So maybe it’s really the reader
What they
Need
Want
And see
MawaLin 2d
My cards are on the table,
will you read
or will you fold?
Emerson 2d
If you look
At this poem
A little
Bit
Closer
tilting your head
a little bit
to the right
You can
see
A city
Of poetry
And words
And letters
I don't know
If
Anyone
Noticed this
But
It is
Interesting to me
Because
Words
Poetry
And all these
Letters are making
A city that is
Filled
With
Love
Horror and darkness
Hope and light
Madness
Mystery
Oddness
Stories of the past
The present
Our futures
In this
City
Of
Poetry
Words
And letters
ME 2d
I intertwined few words
Squeezed in few more
And wrote my life story
Out of a SCRABBLE game

I pointed a pen
Cocked it as a gun
It aimed toward my wounds
And confessed to the crimes
I hid in my heart

I wrote it on a sheet of paper
Fold it to an airplane
Shred it to tiny little pieces
And taught it how to fly
From a rooftop, on a windy day

It landed back in blood
The ocean of my heart
It sank deep and deep
Until it hits the bottom
Where my feelings are forgotten

I untangled my poems
To countless words
I started counting
1 word, 2 words, 3 words..
Rachel Ray was amazing
to the tot that watched
while grandparents talked
to the parent that brought me along

Sat hands in lap
on the living room floor
slowly arching back as each meal passed

We never made any recipe
though I'd thought a lot about it
and often wanted to
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