Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dark Dream May 5
What is inside?
Something I do not know
Building in my veins
Will it help me grow?

I come across a wall
And moving to the side
I see another obstacle
That I can’t reveal or hide

I turn to my left,
Then right and around
I see my mirrored self
She doesn’t make a sound

Too long she’s been standing
Waiting to take control
And find that ***** girl
That some ******* stole

She is fierce and fantastic
Wanting to explore
Taking any sensation
To become a slutty *****

That ******* didn’t ****** you
I heard myself say
You’re a **** hungry woman
But are you ready to play?

I thought I was prepared
For ******* and the feast
Though I’m scared to show the world
The carefully hidden beast

Pressured stirring mounts
Like an ******* ***** fever
It is time for slutabration
And unhinge to receive her
preston Jan 18

After picking her beautiful
jaw  up, off the ground
over the shock-blast of  realizing
that  she (after all of these years)
   had been  finally seen..

there was a shuffling  noise
that I could hear in the background
over the phone..

and I couldn't tell  if it  was her--

scrambling to finish  filling out
the restraining order she started
last week

or maybe  
just  flopping around  in the dark
in her search for the block button

But perhaps..  just perhaps
she is running upstairs  to find  for herself,  
a dry pair of *******

Or better yet,  in order to
race into her room,  her clothes--
strewn,  in a wake behind her
in her overwhelming  need

to knock out  a whole series  of
wildly uncontrollable, release (s)

Strange how it is
that  far too often  these things
can go either way--
yet either way, sweet love

your beautiful jaw
will never again,  be the same

you're welcome
Pepper Dove Feb 2020
I can always tell when my life is beginning to fall apart by the mere glimpse of my ******, torn and gnawed to the bone fingertips. A reflection of my internal chaos, now exposed. Revealing my lack of will power to resist the urge when life’s mundane patterns and stress-induced anxiety take over. There’s something to be said when your toenails become longer than your fingernails. I’d say it says that it's time for a manicure of the soul. ****, a pedi wouldn’t hurt either.
A pattern I've noticed when I'm not at my "A-Game" in life. I think I'll use it as a red-flag to pick myself back up again. It's time to nourish my soul.
Amanda Kay Burke Aug 2019
It is really so revealing
Only takes five weeks
You already need somebody else
Moving between another's sheets

Looking at the terrible facts
Betrayal was truly unexpected
So many times you have hurt me
Yet I thought our love was more respected

Let's hope distance strengthens us
Afraid to lose your heart
If you give it to someone new
Mine is going to crumble apart
Written after I discovered my boyfriend was talking to some other girl behind my back.. at least he swears they only just talked
Glenn Currier Dec 2018
Writing poetry is an exercise
in making myself rise
from ordinary preoccupation
to enter the realm of creation.

When I share it I am revealing
thoughts, doings, and feeling,
so I need not hesitate to share
or bore those who care.

A poem might not be art
but it is a letter from my heart
more than a quick posting
or social media boasting.

So if you do not receive a sealed letter
from me in the mail, a poem is better.
It is a moment of being bold
of sharing a small slice of my soul.

Getting a poem from a poet or friend
is an honor for me and I will attend
and count it a privilege worth prizing
a noble moment of the creator’s rising.
My problem is I fear.

I hold on.

I never know when to give up.

I blindly wave my hands in front of me in hopes that I'll find a hidden door to paradise,

Althewhile I fully expect to never find something that will allow me to stop wandering.

If that wasn't enough,
I drag the locked doors that I find along the way behind me in hopes that,
one day,
they'll magically open.
Anxiety written in a way anyone can understand.
Benji James Jun 2017
Do you hurt the way I do?
Can you feel love?
Should everybody know,
how does it feel to be loved?
Can you see?
Can you see all the hatred I see?
Would you be,
would you be there for me?

All these questions,
in our heads
All these thoughts,
come flooding in
Tell me what you're feeling, yeah
Tell me what you're thinking, yeah
Let's lay our troubles down,
lets let it all out
Instead of bottling it up
And carrying it around.

Do you feel?
Do you feel the frustration?
Are you sick?
Are you sick of straining?
Does your energy,
Does your energy feel like it's draining?
What are people saying?
Are they saying you are
taking everything in vein?
Tell me everything,
Tell me all that's on your mind.

All these questions,
in our heads
All these thoughts,
come flooding in
Tell me what you're feeling, yeah
Tell me what you're thinking, yeah
Let's lay our troubles down,
lets let it all out
Instead of bottling it up
And carrying it around.

Do your thoughts,
do your thoughts keep you awake real late?
Tell me is there,
is there a solution for what you're feeling, yeah
Can you see?
Can you see there are people
who want to be there
Can you trust?
Can you trust in another person's love?
Can you confide?
Can you confide in another person's heart?
Do you know,
do you know there's someone to help you out there, yeah

All these questions,
in our heads
All these thoughts,
come flooding in
Tell me what you're feeling, yeah
Tell me what you're thinking, yeah
Let's lay our troubles down,
lets let it all out
Instead of bottling it up
And carrying it around.

©2017 Written By Benji James
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2017
You are like the sea,
Truth be told there is no other way to put it.
The sound of silence covered in repeated sigh.
A total embodiment of things placed of collective wonderment.
What shall triumph the noise of wave overlapping wave.
Of all things calm you spread your presence,
Drowning in the bliss of serenity.
You and only you could create the quiet hush dreams are made of.
Some tides are bigger than most, 
Of all times, not all are escapable.
Splashing against the shore in a bipolar like disorder.
Crushing everything it touches, selfish in nature.
For every action there is a natural reaction that displaces the initial action.
A need for finding peace in the eye of discord.
This is where your heart becomes a walking representation of the sea itself.
And I the jagged coast, cleansed of any disbelief that things won't get any better outside of the moment.
Pieces of myself lost in you. A constant movement no longer stagnant in thought. 
This is where I consider you the sea, the depth of your eyes covering everything it touches.
And I the boat lost in mid drift, without a care in the world.
A means of transportation exploring a depth of things I never knew to exist.
The things you keep hidden.
Far from the hindsight of eyes, your habits, things you reveal to be true given enough time.
The constant change that happens every moment of every minute.
Still it doesn't take away from it's beauty, the things kept hidden.
You are like the sea, 
A profound way of expression.
And I, the sailor. 
Watching the truth reveal, bit by bit.
Revealing form within, words so true.
Undressed with nakedness, words of the inside.
Uncovered and pure, words of love,
Penetrating the blood, words of the soul.

Voicing in agony, words of pain.
Screaming in darkness, words of loneliness.
Cravings of the heart, words making you mine,
Creamed with kisses, words of embrace.

Words untold and words that die,
Words revealed and killed with disgrace.
Words unmatched for the power of the within,
Words you never hear, for what was never returned- is You.

Next page