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Mary Frances Nov 2018
He got lost along the way
abandoning what's left in his sanity.
He forgot himself while chasing
the dream that was not meant to be.
All he remembered was the warmth
of her name on his lips and the
feeling that came with it.
And that's how she saved him.
Dani Nov 2018
I don't turn my back, I stare them in the face.
They.
Like a shadow follows its host in the spotlight of the moon in the most quiet time of night.
Shadows.
Following, lurking, staring. They, the infamous they.
There is no name, there are no words known to me to tell you what they are. What they do. How they taunt me.
They stand near me, whispering, screaming, begging me to come.
I cannot run or hide for they are with me wherever I go.
In my happiness they laugh, knowing they'll tear me down, knowing it won't last.
They scream for help as if I am their savior. It makes me want to go to them, hold them like a child covered in darkness, but their blood covers me, it blinds me. Are they real?
Why do they need me? I ask why? Why did they choose me?
How can I possible join them? Can I? should I try? If I do does that make my heart dark too?
I am afraid to go to them, but they call me. They stay with me.
All my joys tainted by their shadows.
Are they a part of me? How do I cut them out of my head, out of my heart? I can't breathe, at least I don't think I can, yet I am here with air in my lungs. How do I make it stop?
How do I cut them out of myself, stop the whispers, the screams, the begging, the darkness? How do I tell someone? How do I explain this without getting put away?
Written during an anxiety attack.
Nelsya Nov 2018
i found myself in the world of solitude
lost in another dimension
to hide and protect
my sanity
from inhuman thoughts
and from too many mouths
i know it’s short but finally i managed to update after a year :)
Alvira Perdita Oct 2018
can you hear it? the scratching,
itching that's constantly wanting
to escape the confines of my brain.

can you hear it? the eternal screams
that i'm holding back, swallowing
and trying to suffocate.

can you hear it? the ticking of time
passing with nothing changing as
each day swings.

can you hear it? my last threads
of sanity slowly escaping my grasp,
knowing that there's so space left for it.
Tif Oct 2018
JD
Your like everything I’ve ever wanted and more,
to the degree past 10th -
you’ve lead me to explore,
call me crazy if I believe in you more than I believe in me
Ill go crazy everyday I don’t give a **** who sees!
If you’ve told me forbidden fruits,
I plucked the apple off the tree,
to jump and free fall to you is the rush they’ve hidden for centuries.
Now im awake to feel and see reality is magick’s drop
and im in it going going gone no seize this please create the plot
while in my presence the world is hell bent wrapped in gold like spiraled pendants and I know the people flocked like Jupiter’s King invoked descendants from a history I grew to sow
so I basked in truth
if I do say so your sacred dialect in affect of glass shone mirrors through smoke a soul felt its past in a daze 7 days to be exact
no body would believe my spoken lapse.
So deep you are you see I fled in you to you I get lost in you such depth you give me life and I mean that with every syllable said,
when I was lost and found you found me dead.
I love you
in every sense of the words to beyond this earths measures im sure some would say its absurd
I don’t give a ****!
You let me be me and if that’s not normalcy a conundrum we’ll be.
To the likes of a crowd they steal our ripe. This whole planet neglects the seeds of life. Youre my happy
you’re my everything I thought I didn’t know you’re the light that sits on my skin when I squint and it glows.
You speak a simple sentence and it crumbles it not still.
Where a chaotic mess resided,
you peacefully sealed the seal
that revealed
I in fact
AM.
You in essence
Embodied as one
When the moon took flight
To join the sun
I ******* LOVE You
CJ Oct 2018
I have no injuries
but I always feel like I'm in pain

My mind is always clear
but I always feel like I have a headache

I'm breathing fine
but I always feel like I'm suffocating

Have I lost my touch?
or have I lost my sanity?
Please Tell me...
Tia Oct 2018
Where are you when it's dark?
When it's hard to take what they bark
When I needed to breathe my deserved air
When in their eyes I feel so naked, so bare

I wanted to know you ever since
Ever since everything knocked me down and made  some sense
But yet you were nowhere to be found
You weren't there, you left me behind

Was this your natural nature?
To not show up even if everything is so hard to endure?
To let me be dragged and lay on the floor?
To let me be drowned on my sea of failure?

You kept running away
Leaving me to doubt myself when I fail
Putting me in the box with couple of locks
Caging me with no escape luck
Finished in June of 2018.
Jarene Oct 2018
i don’t know
where i’d be
without poetry

probably
in the ground
planted with the
flowers and trees

a forgotten
name
drifting in the wind
among the leaves
TheMystiqueTrail Oct 2018
The grief that broods in your soul
gushes as a fiery deluge
drowning you
in the flames of a sulphurous agony.

Between the layers of consciousness,
like a brutal cleaver,
it tears up the umbilical cord
that knots you up with your life's script.

On the wings of a melancholic sigh,
you glide to a land of psychedelic dreams
where the hypnotic beat of conga drums
carry you to a world
beyond the dreary beats
of a mundane chore.

The ecstasy of your steps
creates a mystical rhythm
for your Galala dance!

Even the shadow of your dreams
has a sapphire blue
woven into its consciousness!
Cedric Oct 2018
To write wasn’t a passion of mine,
When I learned of life?
My brain suddenly sparked a fire.

You see,
We’re always plunged right into the sea!
I can’t help but swim frantically.

I’m not a swimmer though,
So I kept on sinking.
Towards the abyss.

In a dark place,
I found something darker.
The ink of my pen.

Seeing as my darkness doesn’t compare,
I saw my own darkness as light.
Now I write when it’s night.

I couldn’t make any rhymes,
Just incoherent thoughts.
I wasn’t creative enough.

I couldn’t draw any art,
I couldn’t compose any songs.
All I can do was speak.

Now?
I can just speak without a voice.
This pen of mine speaks.

I’m an open book,
Talk to me and I talk back.
My doubt riddle words.

In my darkest days,
Where my voice doesn’t echo back,
I have my pen.

Light isn’t a reflection of others.
It’s a spark within your headspace.
When everything else disappears.
I’m in a dark place, and whenver I’m down here, I write whatever I can. Raw thoughts, incoherent, abstract, random, gibberish, trash. I writ when I’m down, it’s an outlet to plunge myself deeper so I could die and respawn. My creativity doesn’t exist; only destruction on paper.
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