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A soul poured in —
she drinks me in
through a straw,
taking me in
when she wants,
where she wants.

She stops
when she's had her fill,
returns
when her conscience runs dry.

And when there was nothing left to give,
when the well was dust,

she was gone —

no lips to the straw,
no thirst for me.
On being sipped until the well runs dry
I got lost at bay and dropped my spark
I swore midday
My world turned dark.

Don't know which way my world is headed
Perhaps a doomsday was fated.

I can't see nor can I move
And I stopped having anything to prove.

Frozen at the beach I cried
I now know, my world has died.
xia 16h
I closed my eyes to the ocean of your eyes,
only to open them
to the drought of your absence.
Srishti 1d
A heavy, orphan black cloud
took shelter in my heart.
It called itself my master,
and I became its slave.
When it whipped the rain,
my eyes answered with showers.

Then, a red hibiscus bloomed
in my hair —
and the cloud vanished,
as if it had never been,
or found another heart to haunt.
I read the poem of Robert Frost(the dust of snow) and tried to write this poem on the same theme.
Sela 1d
Conflict and rage is all that is left.
My mind is shattered, my body restless,
The feelings of mine have turned to ice,
As if the life lost all its spice,
And became the victim of sacrifice.
If I could cry, that would have been nice,
But the broken and torn person would not suffice,
To exist in this world,
You must understand
The game of dice
The game of treachery taking its stand,
I feel numb, not ready to move,
I smell of ashes and residue,
And it seems to refuse,
It seems to refuse ,the darkness within me,
It seems to refuse, the emptiness within me,
I guess that is how you live and learn,
I guess that is how your weaknesses burn....
For those who are broken to the core,
Remember even if you are sad ,
You still have something you like..
no seriously what’s the point
like they hand me this plastic bottle
full of “fix me”
and im supposed to believe
these tiny sugar dots are gonna save my life
like yay science thank you doctor man
you’ve officially cured my brain
…. except no
because i still wake up and the first thought is ugh
and i still go to bed and the last thought is ugh
and all the middle thoughts are worse

i swallow them anyway
every morning like a good little patient
smiling like yeah totally “getting better”
but it’s just
chalk and spit
and everyone keeps saying “just give it time”
like time isn’t the exact thing
that’s been killing me slowly this whole time

and it’s funny
because when i really needed them to work
when i was one inch away from not being here at all
they just sat in my stomach
doing absolutely nothing
lazy little magic beans
refusing to sprout
and i guess im still here
but not because of them
never because of them

maybe they’re just placebos
maybe everyone knows it but me
maybe they’re hoping ill stop talking about it
because my silence is easier to swallow
than the truth that
im still
not
okay
20:05pm / i don’t think meds are working
Why do I feel so cold and empty when everyone around me is warm?
Am I made of ice?
Or rather, is it the fact that they choose to blanket themselves in quilts by the fire, while I shiver outside in the cold?
Am I a fool; ignorant and selfish?
I hope not.
Maybe I'm just...  l  o  n  e  l  y  ?
Mimi 1d
Feelings are hard
what do you mean that flirting was a joke
friends don't joke about getting together
friends don't let you wrap your hand around their waist and leave it there
friends don't pretend it's not wrong to cuddle
friends don't lead you on and let you hold them
feelings are hard when friends can't be honest with how they feel
feelings are my enemy
dang
Why do I let people in?
To wipe their feet on my carpet?
To add potholes to my road?
To be a cancerous growth in my chest?

Or is it in hopes:
That they add beautiful patterns,
A more clearer route,
Medicine for my mind?

No.
That is called delusion.
Every time you trust someone.
It’s just a reminder why you shouldn’t trust anyone.
At all.
After break up after break up… you realise everyone’s the same… in the end.
Reece 1d
I’m not afraid of heights, but of the fall.
I’m not afraid of addiction, but of the withdrawals.
I wish I could stop these circling thoughts,
But they keep on spinning.
I’m not afraid of imperfection, but of failure,
Miserably luring me,
To an askew belief.
If I fail once, was I a failure all along?
Can I do anything right?
Just add it to the tally,
Ever growing.
Another note to my somber song.
I’m not afraid to die, but of saying goodbye.
These thoughts, while dark sometimes,
I’d give everything to think of them one last time.
These fears remind me that I’m alive.
I’m not afraid of people, but of being judged.
Anxiety plunging me,
Into fictitious security.
Perhaps, I’m better off on my own,
All alone.
But you lose the chance to form connections,
To enjoy the people that surround you.
Perhaps, I should stop playing this game,
And admit that I am very much afraid.
Sometimes even the smallest of fears can seem overpowering.
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