Baylee Kaye Jul 11
this summer has been for insomnia.
nights where sleep cannot plague me,
and only music fills my ears.
at least I have found my company,
people to keep me at ease while I lay awake.
they see the sun, while I see the moon.
an ocean apart, one sunrise ahead of me.
it seems surreal that when I lay my head to rest,
they’re busy-ing themselves with a day.
though I’m happy they keep me company,
I’m grateful they bring a form of peace.
in their voice is familiarity.
their words can soothe me, because I know their voices so well.
their calming features helps my stiff muscles relax,
their sweet lullabies rock my gently.
insomnia is disheartening,
but it’s bearable when you have their company.
12:59am
I’m listlessly restless
It’s not fair
The show
And the crow
Took the crowd
In a shroud
Now I stare

All of these strawberry people
I don’t care
Flavors
Can’t savor
The name
Of blue pain
Don’t you dare

The hatred I feel in the yield
You can’t bear
But I can
And I stand
Upon broken glass
Bristled clear sharp grass
Barefoot skin to tear

I’m listlessly restless
So ugly it’s yet precious
How quaint
How base
Such fate
Worthy of anyone who cares
Call themselves a good person

Listlessly restless
King of the fail
Such sweet painful woe
Begone, the loved one
Onward, set sail
Depression is like a boomerang. No matter how far away it's thrown, at some point it will all come back.
The moon
one night
was bored
it asked the sun
to play ball
the game was on
Both played strong
Counting stars
to keep score

Using first
the brightest
each inning
Then the ones
Slowly dimming
It was hard to tell
as some stars fell
they lost count
on who was winning

rather than starting over
the moon lied
about the number
Scattering
some stars
Even counting
mars
It proved
to be
the loser

The sun got heated
fighting
enough of the moon
cheating
The tally was a lie
So the sun wiped the sky
The score
was back to zero
by morning
Poetic Surgery, Copyright © 2018,  All rights reserved.
Kat Jul 8
And he will think of me,
actually
maybe he won't

I want him to
eventually
possibly
I don't

I really shouldn't
probably
needless to say

Get out of my mind
I want you to stay
fearlessly

I'm so tired
terribly
uselessly

I should get some rest
finally
really

Tomorrow will hold more
hopefully
surely
Constantly trying can be very tiring sometimes. I hope you all have a good night. Tomorrow is going to be easier. Probably.
Uta Jul 5
And she visited heaven many times,

but they never let her in,

she saw a golden river,

of restless souls,

she cried and grieved so hard,

seeing angels fall,

her broken heart,

was destroyed,

into thousands of pieces,

because of what she saw

in front of heavenly gates.
Comment and tell me what you think!

What did this girl, saw in front of the heavenly gates?
Nara Hodge Jul 4
Within my own broken self
I look for hidden parts of you.
You, the destroyer; I am your victim -
For now, at least, our roles are reversed.

I climb the steps to the top of a fountain -
The imaginary steps, the ones we invented;
And I reach the fountain that never existed,
To drink from its memories - torn and twisted.

Do you remember how it all started
On that fateful night not meant to happen?
It happened though, despite all odds -
Its pain enduring, its memories blurred.

No longer knowing what’s real and what’s a dream,
I crawl through the day not daring to scream.
With one wish only - to reach the night,
So I can beg it for shelter and a brief respite.

The imaginary comfort of welcoming darkness,
A cruel illusion that inevitably shatters
As soon as the first beam of all baring light
Casts a fierce spell with all its might.

Thus I’m left with another day to crawl through;
With promises that are fantasy - none of them true,
Longing for the arrival of the merciful night
With its false comfort to sleep by my side.

Copyright: Nara Hodge 2018
Edith Peña Jul 3
Another glass of tequila pressed against my lips.
I stopped counting after the 9th shot.
Hopefully I forget about you permanently after this.
Usually helps. The alcohol.
It’s been tough lately trying to rest.
The liquor though. It cradles me to sleep.
But once I wake up, I start remembering. Everything.
Your veins. Becoming more and more visible every time you clench your fists.
Your voice. Increasing after every sentence.
Your face. The anger smeared all over your face.
The door slamming. Left a dreadful echo.
The tears constantly streaming down my face then hitting the cold floor beneath my pale feet.
My voice… It was getting really shaky  after every beg and plead.
I don’t want to turn around in bed. I know you’re not there anymore but I just don’t want to believe it.
I see Satan in the corner, smiling.
He points down at my hand. It’s a drink…
Please stop fucking with me you evil little bitch.
Go to hell.
Stop torturing me.
LEAVE ME ALONE.
WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME.
Maybe if I drink whatever is in this cup, he’ll go away.
This one tastes different…
Really fucking disgusting actually.
It’s like a metallic taste. Very unusual.
Something is dripping onto my shirt.
Is there a leak in the ceiling?
It’s red. Like the drink I just had. Did I spill on myself?
Maybe it’s wine? Maybe. I’m not a big fan of wine.
It’s dripping tremendously now.
Blood? Is it blood? Am I bleeding?
What’s going on here? What did I do?
I feel a pair of ridiculously warm hands wrapping around my throat. Their  hands are burning me…
These hands are squeezing tighter now.
LET ME GO!
I’m not in the same room anymore.
It’s really dark in here. Can someone turn on a light please?
Is anybody out there?
Please don’t leave me here alone…
There is still blood dripping.
My whole body is drenched in blood now.
What did I do?...
Now I’m on my knees screaming to the heavens to help me.
HEAR MY CRY!
WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?
DON’T LEAVE ME HERE LIKE THIS, PLEASE!
- Edith P.
Alicia Allen Jun 26
Mired
Viscosity
Visceral
Ferocity
lustful hunger
Screaming
Loner
tire
troubles
restless slumber
calming
peace
in Christ we keep
bowed
heads
Prayerful Thoughts
Heal me through a broken path.
when you're going through something you just have to keep going.
Gail Hannon Jun 23
And my legs itch,
Inside, like ants crawling in my veins,
Like an energy being held down,
Held back.
The itch,
That never goes away,
As I try to remain still,
As I try to focus.
The itch.
As if I wasn't meant to remain this way.
As if I was meant to travel and move.
As if I was meant to change and evolve.

And the itch is not just in my legs.
It's in my soul.
As I look out a window on a sunny day,
Or sit within the confines of a stagnant building,
Or look at the sun twinkling on water,
Or look at the stars waltzing in the black velvet of night.

I itch.

I feel
the itch.
sara Jun 23
I much prefer it when it rains;
theres much less pressure on the day.
It makes me feel like it's alright,
to waste a day alone inside

and wrap myself up in a blanket,
shut out the world. To be quite frank it,
hardly makes a lot of sense;
sometimes, I just don't help myself.

Look far and wide for some excuse,
roll left and right, avoid the truth;
rip it all up to start anew,
as often restless minds will do.
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