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"Will I make it?"
the heart cries.

A thousand tries,
yet I fall.

"Should I lower my expectations?"
it whispers.

"No, it's not over until you win,"
the mind insists,
like night cradles the sky;
light will come soon.
To those chasing their dreams, remember: there's always light at the end of the tunnel for those who remain true to their hard work and dedication.
i don't have
the time

(don't have
the time)

for this
internal
fight.

i say i've
got hope

but i let
it take over
me tonight.

what a tragic
mess,

a cacophony
of internal
sounds

spinning from a
broken record

filled to the
brim with
regrets.

if this isn't
a test,

my strength is
enduring,

and i will
make the best
of this.

i said i was
lost,

but my soul is
unwavering

and
because of you
by my side,

life is a little
easier

to manage
and survive

and that's
enough for
now.
A sequel to my poem “LOST.”

This piece reflects the quiet strength that comes after the breakdown—the moment when hope returns, not loudly, but with enough presence to hold on.
AE 17h
Here on this ledge
where many come to sit
in solitude, or with company
they leave behind pieces of their grief,
fragments of their love, seeds of their hope
stopping to take a breath
swallowing their words
for a minute of silence

and every time, I plant these things
with the little dandelions,
that make you sneeze
so there's something to blame
for the red eyes

because nothing blooms here
without carrying
someone's story
for you to read, for you to feel.
waking up in a haze,
wondering what day it is.

nights blurring into the next,
trying to pull myself together.

lost, confused, wondering:
what the hell is wrong with me?

is this just a phase?
is this post-traumatic response
or recovery?

because everything seems
to go too fast, or
way too slow,

and i think
i'm gonna breakdown.

stupid toxic tendencies,
i keep trying every day,
and it's oh-so exhausting.

imagine an enemy,
only you can see—

man vs. self,
back to the basics
of healing and discovery.

fighting the bad thoughts,
just to get another day.

so tired and over it,
i gotta claw my way out,

or i'll never truly be set free.
Andy Mann Apr 4
The voices dwell deep in my mind
You are nobody
You are useless
You know nothing.
Beaten down,
Brought to my knees,
Gasping for air,
I cannot breathe.
I believe.
But this belief sows my destruction
I weep for the dead
Great but now fed
To the worms in the dust
The dust I will join
Sooner than I think.
What good am I among these?

I have wasted the reservoir of time
In sin, in doubt, in fear
Fear of what I left undone.
Where do I go from here?
The voices came calling again.

But I cannot continue like this.
I give up or shut up.
Shut up and act.
Act and believe.

Even if that belief is beyond reason
Beyond my mind to comprehend
The words of a lunatic.

I am greatness personified
if I believe
I am the master of my own universe
if I believe.

I am the king of dust, not its minion
And I will return to my kingdom
When I am done
But not today.
This poem was written during a moment of deep internal struggle. It’s about the voice in the mind that tells us we are nothing—and the quiet resistance that rises in spite of it.
It's inspired by Walt Whitman's “O Me! O Life!”.
Death is a reminder that I’m alive.
Depressed, not skive.

To feel a grasp till I not,
I shall do —for what I can’t.
Seeing my tree grow with rot,
my roots shall grasp —for all has spent.
For growth in stagnation,
I have found my revelation.

For the clouds of today are swept away,
I will bathe —oh lil’ light, to find my way.
For in darkness, I crawl —inch by inch,
every single day;
The moon of dark has finally left its pitch.
Crawling— To find you, oh lil’ light, I pray.
A reminder for those who are lost.
Sam S Mar 31
I let you in, I let you see
the deepest, quietest parts of me.
I gave you gifts, both kind and rare,
laid out dark secrets, every care.

But shadows shift, and masks did fall,
your honeyed voice revealed it all.
You lied, you took, then spun the tale
to paint my kindness cold and pale.

So now the gates are locked up tight,
no open doors, no welcome light.
The hands that once gave, now hold fast,
a lesson learned, a love that passed.

No whispers now, no gentle plea—
the walls stand firm, protecting me.
For trust once shattered won’t return,
when some betrayals only burn.

Yet through the cracks, the stars still gleam,
soft reminders, distant dreams.
The lock remains, the scars run deep,
but love still lingers where it sleeps.

And should one come with steady hand,
who speaks in truth, who understands,
they’ll find the key, not forced, but free—
for walls aren’t meant for eternity
Just wait…. And see
Joshua Phelps Mar 30
You found me
in a broken state,

heartbroken,
building up my walls,

classic fight-or-flight,
trauma calling the shots.

I gave up wanting more,
but you came at the right time—

not to save me from myself,
but to show me how to live,
let go,

and let bygones
be bygones.

I couldn’t believe
that someone

would give me
a chance,

but you never
gave up on me,

even when I was
falling through
the cracks.

You showed me what
true love should be,

and I’m never going back.
Asuka Mar 29
The world of lies, with hollow eyes,
No, it is not the place for me.
You know I'm lonely—so lonely,
No one beside me, lost in the sea.

I long for a soulmate to carve a name
In the golden sands by the restless waves.
But the tides will come and wash it away—
Who do I turn to? Who will stay?

The sun exists, yet hides at night,
Just like me—I seem alright,
But deep inside, I fight my plight.

This world is a shadow, near in light,
Gone in the dark, out of sight.
This world won't change, I know it's true—
But one day, gold will come to you.

Let the dogs bark, let them sneer,
One day, their voices will disappear.
If they won’t let you fly, walk the sky,
If they block your path, keep moving by.

Push ahead, no matter how,
Chase your dreams, don’t stop now.
Without pain, life is incomplete,
Wings will sprout, though your back may bleed.

This world won’t change, but still, I try.
I am alone, lost in the night.
I don’t know when or how I’ll fall,
But I know—again—I’ll hit the floor.

****** tears from words that sting,
Yet life sways like a see-saw swing.
One day you're high, one day you're low,
But through it all, you learn and grow.
Lost in the tides, yet still I rise. It's okay to not get what you want at the start. I will endure it.
anna Mar 27
The tree by the viaduct
violently fell, splintered
in late January's storm.
It had happened at night;
left to tell stories to the worms
about when the stars
waved back.

The pigeons in our garden
didn't sleep on those
stormy early-mornings.

Spring sprouts greener
grass amongst wet moss.
Splinters raise sharp fingernails
to scratch the sky; beckoning
to the heavens that try their best
to welcome the shattered trunk.

The bough bowed to the ground,
yet buds blister their bright
colours into a burst of blossom
when spring begins to warm
the frozen pavements. A
new life - attractive pink,
romantically scattered along
its own dying bark.
Lying over the grass, ready to
return to the soil when
the last of the sweet sap dries
and the pink fades into dull brown.

But this afternoon,
blessed in cold April sunlight
the bloom of the fallen
tree seems twice
as bright against green
than it would have
against a misty grey-blue.
(WIP) the fallen tree still blooms - it isnt ready to decay yet
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