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Safana Sep 2020
For you
to see me, ride on a
polar bison to cross,
the Arctic circle and
bring to me, a snow
peacock feather

Safana & Bamalli 2020
To archive greatly, we must passthrough different obstacles
Pete Elliot Jun 2020
My mood is constantly fluctuating,
They are the mighty seas of my life,
Sometimes I feel like a faithful captain,
Never abandoning my ship,
Other times I feel like a shipwrecked sailor,
My ship overturned by the waves of my emotions,
I feel second to the raging waters,
I know I would fight for my life to stay afloat,
My ship is made of my experiences,
I make small repairs every now and again,
I tear up the mast when I can’t look too far ahead,
I question my own ship and walk on my own plank giving in to the rushing waters,
I feel like I have done wrong,
That my ship is not special,
That I should be no captain of my soul,
But there is no one who knows my boat best,
I know every crack, crease, and leek,
My cabin is safer than the mast,
I go here to write of a fearless sailor they say once inhabited my boat,
A man who knew no fear except to one day find calm waters,
He would climb to the crows peak with a dirk in his mouth to loosen the chains of resentment and self pity,
The hurricane slowed and the captain returned to his cabin,
Now all I know is the fear of the storm,
My soul needs rest,
Company is always appreciated, but I never really swabbed the deck,
I pray you overlook the mess friend,
My ship has nothing to hide.
I’m not a stranger to sleepless nights and racing thoughts. If you or someone you know is struggling there is help out there. And there are people who can sincerely empathize.
I've lost innocence.

I've lost faith.

I've lost my soul to this dreary place.

It's so cold, it's so very dark.

My lonely heart has lost it's spark.

I beg for a little mercy.

I cry for some kind of grace.

There's nothing, not even a trace.

The hellish demons in my mind elope with the ever lasting darkness I've came to find.

The clock has chimed...

I'm out of time.
This is a poem I wrote about the hopelessness I felt while suicidal.
elle jaxsun Mar 2019
am i ******* crazy or are you?

i can't tell and it's putting me
in a pretty ****** *** mood.

everything's back and forth
back and forth
back and forth
back from the grave (I found this in my deleted stuff and it made me laugh)
Brielle Bishop Dec 2018
11.11.18// Revised 12.5.18
Dialogue // Mania

There is no reason
There is no reason
There is no reason  
And I do not understand
The orange bottle symbolic
White and round
Like wafers at a communion
Offering up my body
My mind
Broken down spirit
You need to compose yourself
But all you can compose is this
Even the dog is worried
Orange feline
Another symbol
Wrapped around your heels
Who will feed them?
If you’re away
Don’t break the glasses
But you should
Don’t break the glasses  
Smell of blood
Don’t break the glasses
Across the floor
Lock the children away

You’ve dug through the ash tray three times
Obsessively checking three more
Flesh on flesh
The sound of follicles

Make it stop.
Anya Oct 2018
It's the start of the school
year and everyone's
milling about

Water particles
Milling about
and breaking
hydrogen bonds

There's a group of
new kids,
awkwardly standing
off to the side

A large crystal
of salt
is dumped among

Some of the old kids
start milling
over pulling
new kids
their friend

The water starts
bonding with
ions of salt
positive with negative
negative with positive
pulling them
to form

Eventually all the
new kids are
incorporated into
friend groups

The lattice of salt
is broken apart
And all the individual ions
are surrounded
Known as H2O
If you find quirky analogies to science interesting check out my collection "science poems".
Ophélie S Sep 2018

not bad,
i commented to myself as i watched you do your thing
for the first time ever ;
not bad was my way to say
still is today
i have standards, you see and —
they were met when i
heard you say,
"that's only half what
i can do."

let's get this straight:
i was the best at what i do until
you came around ;
it's not like i'm mad though —
quite the opposite 
in fact.


here's something else:
i have always liked the way your eyes
shot daggers
even when you were smiling ;
a death stare, they named it and, you know,
i won't call them wrong —
i'm rather fluent with the concepts of
and staring myself, after all.

do you remember?
when we spoke to each other —
it was always a sparring of
rather than words.


a fact:
you have been called cold
more often than
you have been called pleasant ;
i know  —
it's not like you'd disagree
not like you'd be stupid enough to
deny ;
cold is a comfortable shadow
to hide in,
something people like us
wear as a coat or
a scarf
from july to june.

there's this saying that the addition of
two negative objects
turns them a positive
result ;
i'm not much of a scholar so, honey,
what's on your mind?


i get it now,
if i'm propellers
you are wings —
rather than a mirror, we're
distorted reflects
a thing evolution knows
a great deal about ;
this yearning is the aspect of you
i'd wish to keep
bottled up ;
"what for?" you'd ask.

yearning is not a thing
i'm a stranger to ;
i've yearned for many things including
and you —
i've been struggling
to make them mine, though
perhaps because i'm never really trying.


that's how you do it:
you take what you want with
clawed hands
accomplish miracles with
thunderous silence —
an entity of cruel fairness,
icy anger but —
what you want is a complicated
with definite shape to your eyes
but blurry to those of

i'm neither believer nor seer but
here's a little prediction :
the day you are satisfied is the day
shuts down upon us all and
half of me
prays for it.


about extremes —
some will say grey is a better shade and
though i confess
it does have its charms,
it still has to paint me a picture more striking
than a soul with
adamentine purpose.

see —
i stare as you pass by,
terrific in beauty
beautiful in hardness and
off —
goes my heart, sanity, ego
and shirt.
Rayven Rae Aug 2018
i hate the feeling
electricity zapping
panic rising up

elephant sitting
when you have to breathe to live
but breathing kills you

frantic brightness fills
my eyes become not my own
this rollercoaster

the ride is rising
imminent crescendo comes
makes my brain explode

frantic morphs into
the manic part takes over
breath is optional

heart racing pumps blood
this is my brain not on drugs
**** this high on life

is this how he felt?
fragmented thoughts shooting pain
in constant motion

he was bi-polar
only 26-years-old
manic made him shoot

powder burns gaping
bullet isn’t only a word
it’s self-inflicted

is this how he felt?
ghosts collide with memories
make sense make sense again

is this how he felt?
i can’t get out of my head
south polar-trapped north

reality shifts
welcome to my Upside-Down
make this go away

perspective shifted
shattered doesn’t begin to
put name to sorrow

i miss him so much
every breath i take is laced
knowledge of absence

i welcome the pain
i feel him trapped inside me
can i do this life?

my world has shattered
i will never be the same
**** this time and place
amber Jul 2018
wishing for a break
from the hectic mania
that my mind projects
and the absolute havoc
the outside world reaps
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