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Yanamari Mar 14
There's always a depth to familiarity
That has the mind at it's
Beck and call
Just a scent and the mind is
Overwhelmed with history
A rush of emotions spill
In consistency with the nerve synapses
Nostalgic or regretful,
Content or melancholy;
Always a constant reminder
Of the difference you can
Never return to.
And yet not the same
Dré Jul 2019
We love each other broken,
and maybe that’s our curse.
I catch my reflection in glassy shards of you,
scattered across countless hotel room floors.

relentless reminders
of the things we love
and can’t stand.

Everything and nothing.
Together and alone.
Here and there.
I can’t be in this body;

Exit stage left when bloodied soles
remind me of my inability to make you whole.
Imminent failure lingers over me;
a wet blanket putting out a fire
that was never meant for fighting.
AntiFemale Nov 2018
My heart beats aren’t instrumental .
They’re painful .
And there’s no rhythm to remedy
the wreck that I am .
Every lub-dub is an alarm clock
waking me up to my reality.
A reminder that I’m still
broken .
That I’m still inhaling what kills me .
Staring into the darkness and hoping to see the moon again has been a constant routine. It’s beautiful, really . However waking up everyday with no more knowledge than the previous day has also presented itself as a familiar face and it aches me to think that on some days,  I’m okay with that .
Ndanyanyukwa Aug 2018
I hope they know that I was writing.
I hope they know that poetry was the reason why I could fight it.
At night with my broken heart trying to fix all the pieces that have broken apart.
So do we call this art?
Or is this just the start? Of finding all the answers left from the people who have left their mark? Will we ever know? Will they ever show? The love they once had for us which taught us about growth.
I highly doubt so.
Emotions on low, that every single person I've met asks me why I don't glow. I guess this is the part where I start to explain, how I am still alive and how I manage to stay sane.
"you learn to numb the pain" caused by people, circumstances and something's you can't mention in vain.

If pain takes me away, I want you to proudly say that you knew somewhere that I was writing and I'll be okay.
life is worth living. sometimes it will take others longer to realize that.
Jayantee Khare Apr 2018
And one day
I realised that
Sometimes one needs to reach
the threshold of hurt
to make the mind divert
towards better opportunities....
"And one day series" I am writing.
Nylee Nov 2017
With little time in hand, I know nothing can be undone
This scares me, but extinguishes the fear away of unknown
Melancholy, my everyday anywhere companion
Hiding in shadows, as the sun comes.

The timing is perfect, enough but never enough
Feels are there still between the gaps but numb
I misplaced my heart on,strayed away from the game
Everything is lost, but still nothing has changed.

Room is darker than usual, moon remains hidden
The heartbeats are heard and sudden,
There is no excuse this time
Just few seconds left to create another rhyme.

End is coming nearer, the start is next to it
Life is too much yet incomplete
The journey unstable, I don't look around
Many realisations, lost and found.
Murredith Apr 2017
Realisations of common knowledge lurk around us like shadows in the darkness.

Don’t close your eyes. Don’t turn around. Don’t turn a corner too quickly. It’s just the wind. It’s not the same car. It’s too big of a city to find you.

Dear authorities, what are you doing to help?

People from generations before mine have raised their children to be hateful. They have taught them that if they don’t feel like respecting people, they shouldn’t and won’t. I’m sure you’ve guessed this next one, but they’ve let their children get away with a smack here and a smack there to those who don’t obey their every demand – and even to those who do. But I am not the only one. I am not the only unlucky punching bag to experience the hatred of someone much older, more mature, wiser and certainly, not just a kid. Is that it? Is that why you let him go? I was four when it started and fifteen when it ended. To you, that’s a child. Children don’t know much, do they.

Dear authorities, that’s where you’re wrong.

I was four when it started and if you think it stopped at fifteen when my abuser walked out, think again. It never fully stops, not yet. I am nearly twenty years old and I still flinch if someone holds out their hand for a handshake or raises their voice just a notch because they’re a little out of earshot and I needed them to repeat.

Dear authorities, I can’t live because you won’t let me.

Oh, you like Budwiser? Corner Gas, the T.V. show? Do I smell steak? Potatoes baked on the BBQ? You need a plumber? Handyman? Oh look, you’re wearing red. Do you think I appreciate being reminded by the stupidest things, that my abuser is out there? Why is that? Could it possibly be because nobody has bothered giving the man any possible discipline?

Dear authorities, I’m tired of being told, “it’ll be okay, it’s not that bad.”

People after people have continuously told me to go talk to someone. I’ve seen multiple counsellors, doctors, talked to teachers, specialists, friends and family. But what are you doing to help? I moved away from my mother and siblings, in fear. Fear, because every time we moved anywhere the lawyer told us we had to give our address to the abuser. We could not deny him access to us, we could not cut off communication with him. I had to leave, as an attempt to protect myself and hide in a big city with lots of people and hopefully I could blend in.

Dear authorities, you have failed me.*

Stop telling me things will be okay, when he is out there and things only seem to matter when a death occurs.

Dear authorities,

Dear authorities…

Dear me, you’re not dead so authorities don’t care.
I originally posted this on my blog & today decided to post it on here as well. If you'd like to see the original on my blog, you may view it, like it, share it or comment on it, at
- SYV Jun 2016
Coffee stains on my pillow case
remind me of lonely nights

The books stacked against my walls
are reminders of a lonely life

Papers all over my desk of words left

Sheets still straightened as I never go
to bed

The only friends I have are the ones
in my head

Yet the photo frames have other
things said

Despite all the memories that's
clouded by what once had been

It's time to turn a chapter of what is to
be seen

Thoughts all over the place and I
don't know where to start

But sooner or later with these things I
must part
08 July 2010*

The dark azure sky trembled from afar
The rain seems to fall leavin' a scar
Why now? When loves dead 'n' gone
What else would make things done?

It pains me much. What should I do?
To make this feeling stop 'n' go
One day, the blames on me
For I never waited and see

Feelings, unless we **** these
We can't go on, life's never at ease
I'll say goodbye even for a while
Just for a while, without your smile

No need of bittersweet words to excuse
Whether I understood or not, or I'm confused
I win or lose that all will be my luck
And we cant bring those used-to-haves back

There's no reason for me to stay
For you wanted to dream and run away
Cos I feel, I'm cold as frost in the stars
Someday, love will leave cold 'n' blue scars
Got Guanxi Jun 2015
Sometimes I write things and then look back at them and think...
                                    *Was that really me?
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