Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Quantum Poet Jun 2
I’ve seen too much from behind these lids.
I've learned that the dark is no place I can rest.
It shows me everything that hides, or is hid,
Inside every pulse within others foul heads.

I flinch at any kindness like it's going to bite.
For not every smile is given to me to stay.
I keep my room the brightest at night—
So, when I see me, I won't look away.

My body is here, I think. Maybe in part.
But rest is somewhere I left, unclaimed.
I built shrines of silence inside my heart,
Where I hid my echo and gave it a name.

When I am asked, why I never sleep,
A version of me steps in front just to lie.
Cause sleep is a place that's way too deep,
For someone who feels like they already died.

I’ve felt myself moving under my skin—
I'm an actor mouthing some borrowed truth.
I close up and break. The thoughts swarm in.
As I choke on even their quietest proof.

I stay wide awake thinking pain will pass.
It doesn't. It stayed here and laid in my bed.
My comfort is a window of shattered glass—
It never begs me to fix my fractured head.

I taught myself how to speak under pause,
And how not to feel, with blood and meds.
You know love exists? Then show me the clause,
Stating “nothing that lives, is punished when dead.”

I almost opened my heart once. And It burned.
Not with fire—just light I knew I shouldn’t touch.
You say your worth trust? Well see if it returns,
If you abandon it like faith and leave it untouched.

I wish I knew how not to leave my own trail.
But my presence cuts the air, and I can’t pretend.
I stitch it back together, each time I inhale,
My own conscious effort to draw my next breath.

These eyes must stay open. That’s the only rule.
So I count every crack in the wall and the door.
My heartbeats break open. My bloods in a pool.
Not so much now, but that used to mean more.

Might as well be the door, I will not unseal.
Or the me in the mirror would start turning away.
Cause to truly open up, would make it too real.
And nothing that's real in my life, ever stayed.

So never again, will I close my eyes.
Keep your strong skin. And I’ll keep the scars.
I swallowed a lock; in my chest it resides.
And never again, will I open my heart.
Internal journalist
Pitiful moralist
Brave declarations
Cleverly made

My words are a weapon
An army attacking
Myself - but my friendships
Are casualties laid
Psych Ward Poetry
Set 6, Poem 5
Joshua Phelps May 22
it’s absurd,
you keep breaking—

deep down,
you’re tired
of it all.

sick of it.
sick of
the fall.

“traumas,”
you keep sayin’—
“i’m over it,
i’m okay.”

but all you’ve done
is what you had
to do:

survive.

and now you live
with words
you can’t take back.

it’s wasting
your time,
your energy.

the only one left
is you—
and you’re not okay.

nobody hurts you
worse than
you do.

so why
keep this up?

take a breath.
open your eyes.

everything
will fall in place—

this time.
inspired by slaves’ “petty trappin.”

a poem about the lies we tell ourselves, the pain we repeat, and the slow fight to break through it.

sometimes healing sounds like tough love. even when it’s your own voice.
[  ] I don’t know why I’m like this.
[  ] I’m sorry.
[  ] I never meant to hurt you.
[  ] The cruelty slips out,
[  ] and I pretend it’s not mine.

[  ] It’s not on you.
[  ] The storm’s always been mine.
[  ] I’m just someone
[  ] who forgets how to breathe
[  ] until it’s too late.
[  ] And I need help.
[  ] I always have.

[  ] I’m unraveling, quietly.
[  ] I don’t sleep right anymore.
[  ] I don’t smile the same.
[  ] And I’m scared
[  ] of what I’ll lose
[  ] once you see too much.

[  ] You’re the only calm I’ve ever known.
[  ] But I know how this ends.

[  ] I’m not mean because I hate you.
[  ] It’s never been that.
[  ] I just push
[  ] so you’ll run
[  ] before I ruin you.

[  ] I can’t save myself.
[  ] But if I scare you off,
[  ] maybe I can save you
[  ] from becoming part of this mess.

[  ] I want you to stay.
[  ] God, I do.
[  ] But if you stay,
[  ] you’ll see the worst parts
[  ] the ones I bury
[  ] under shaky smiles
[  ] and half-laughed jokes.

[  ] I don’t want to be someone
[  ] you pity.
[  ] I don’t want you
[  ] to hold my pieces
[  ] like they’re yours to carry.
[  ] You don’t deserve that.

[  ] You’re my best friend.
[  ] The only one
[  ] who ever made the dark feel less cruel.
[  ] The only one I wanted to get better for.

[  ] So maybe I need to go quiet.
[  ] Disappear for a while.
[  ] Figure it out.
[  ] Alone.

[  ] Please forgive me
[  ] for being too broken
[  ] to be held.

[  ] I love you.
[  ] I’ll miss you.
[  ] I’m sorry.
This is a poem about self sabotaging relationships- this one is specifically about me and my best friend
Melanie Feb 25
how long can I keep up the facade?
hold my head above water,
paste a smile on
not feel the buzzing underneath my skin
Ten years later, there it is again
can you believe it?
back like it never left
Whether to protect or sabotage,
to be determined
A month in, and there she is
a bitter reflection, grenade in hand
ready to pull the pin
just when you think you're safe
maxx Jan 30
here’s what they never tell you:
to be loved,
you are supposed to be perfect.
smile wide.
never stutter.
keep your darkness tucked
behind your teeth.

but what if you show your cracks?
what if your scars scream louder
than your laugh?
what if your mind is a rainstorm
that never stops pouring?

will they run,
call you crazy,
lock the door,
swallow the key?

or —

and here’s the terrifying part —
will someone stay,
hands steady,
and say:
"i see you,
storm and all,
and i choose
to love you still?"

and if they do
how do you stay?
knowing that you are
worse than they can ever know.
based off of the song bad luck by noah kahan
polina Jan 11
no
Are you a bad person?
Or are you just hurting, and
You lash out at every single person
Who actually cares?

Do you think it makes me feel good,
Or sympathetic, when you
Spit in my face and disregard
Every beautiful moment we had?

Do you think it’s better this way,
To have so many people apathetic to you
From repeated insults, and screaming
And broken trust?
Is that better than having people love you?
maxx Jan 7
i am both the flame
and the fuel.

some days,
i watch myself burn—
wild and untamed,
destroying everything i swore
i would protect.

i feel the cracks forming
before they break,
hear the words
before they cut,
see the wreckage
before it falls.

i want to stop.
god,
i want to stop.

but it’s like trying
to hold back a storm
with trembling hands.
the chaos is mine,
but it owns me.

when the fire dies,
i am left with the ash—
and the aching hope
that somehow,
i can rebuild
before i burn again.
inspired by the song A Burning Hill - Mitski
Next page