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BSween Jul 21
In a ward overcrowded
Patients confounded left distressed
While overworked essentials crave rest
But the best they can do is a guess
Smiles of comfort not even seen through the screen of PPE
And machines that help them rest
As they take their last ventilated

A big gentle man
Cracks on with his plan just
To survive as any man can
In a hotbed pandemic
Hatred endemic for his kind
Devalued in life and in death
He is stopped blind
Takes his last suffocated

A pleading young mother
Kids scream at each other
It’s all too much for dad
It’s a rage and he’s had
A few and that’s not the least
Can’t get away from the beast
She covers her bruises
Picks up her youngest
Hopes she can get through the worst
Hot blood on the cold knife
Sweet murdered wife takes her last

Stagnant Suffocating confinement
The unrelenting walls closing in-
Hale, exhale; Zoom yoga and baking dough
Obliged to show forget the death
For a brief moment you
Took away my
mark soltero Oct 12
i lie down in my filth
rotting away
enamel dissolving
hair falling onto the ground
my skin has ripped at the seams
nothing will not remind me
can’t stop thinking
everything is subjective
no one can truly say what it means
please melt away the
wrongs in me make me pure
Daniel Oct 12
Through hollow eyes, I'm watching life,

a frozen body wrapped in ice.

I feel in shreds and lost to light,

I lay in bed and always hide.

I'm always trapped inside my mind,

in which I'll rot within due time.

Down hollow halls, I walk to find

more vacant walls to stand behind.

My hollow heart cannot survive this hollow life I've come to find.

A hollow chest grows weak with time, no blood runs through my hollow spine.

I cannot take the hollow lies, the words that echo, "you'll be fine."

A hollow soul just cannot find,

a piece of peace to ease its mind.
A poem I wrote about my depression when it is at it's worst.
We mistake his teeth for houses
painted and polished to the perfect shade of porcelain rot.

A green tongue infested with worms and rabbit holes comes to divide the jaws
and you can’t help but stare and become lost in the size of these things.

The air that surrounds the atmosphere of his mouth is bitter and has its own Twitter account it’s just a bunch of tweets about
mythical creatures and searching for a custom sized tooth brush.

I once climbed a rope in gym class, it was made of 100% real giant hair.
When I got down to the mat the girl I liked wasn’t impressed.

She said she only liked guys who were already in college and had seen a real giant.

I went home and plotted how I would not only find one but I would **** it, just for her.
As I opened the window all I could smell was gingivitis.
Fran Oct 8
Ey, what's wrong.
They say.
You really wanna know? Ok. I'm desperately in love with a guy, who loves me back. Thing is he lied. He made me his affair. He just told me. And though I forgave him, well he's not ready. He needs to put everything behind him first.
I'm scared. What if I never heal. Never heal from my past, the fear, the panic, the shame and the feeling I destroyed my family. What if this therapy won't help as well?
I read things about death and every time I do, I get a panic attack. ;z throat closes and the tears just stream down my face.
But hey. You don't really wanna know, do you?
Because if I told you, your reaction would be exactly the same to when I just say: Nothing. I'm just tired.
Sanjali Oct 6
I care for you
Bring you some blankets
And we stay in the cocoon

I want to care for you
Warm towels on your head
And some pepper in your soup

I’m there for you
To snuggle or listen
On my lap there you’ll be too

I care for you
Hoping you sleep well
And feel better soon.
You and I, we always ran
To lounge on pearlescent grains of sand,
To stare at all the passerby,
Who in turn scorn you and I.

On our corner, we held up our signs
To warn of coming end times,
Soon to come for all of us
Perceived as superfluous.

We made up our own gods,
To even up the odds,
That we were stacked against
Being so incensed;

If you’re a light, then I’m a fuse
Depend on you for my abuse.
Push each other to our best-
Or our worst, **** all the rest.

Are you sick of it all yet?
Sick of all the cigarettes,
Sick of chasing little stars,
Of drowning in our little bars?

Are we losing it, our integrity?
Have we replaced sincerity?
Do we lie and stare at the skies
To think only of loss and lies?

I still recall that line you said
“To live we must forget the dead.”
I’m glad to see you haven’t lost your hope,
You and your little rope.

You’ll never be on the inside,
You were born to abide-
Some inherit repose,
We’re not them, and so it goes.

We have each other, though we fight and shout-
Love and hate, forget and blackout.
Inflict wounds that’ll never mend,
Wake up and do it all again.
psyche Sep 23
That tightness in your chest,
the heavy weight that resides there
Is it because you're sick?
desperately gasping for air

Or are you being condemned?
declared as guilty
The plaint you carry
no stranger would it be
LeV3e Sep 11
Oh god...
Please no, not this
Just breathe slowly and
Hopefully it'll go away, then
SHIVERS spark beads of sweat
The pain inside you'll never forget
Hot and cold, breathe in and out, then
   Oh God Why?? I'm
CH...Oking on my
       I n s i d e s
CO....UGH I can't FU....Cking breathe
My God is it ove.... Rrrrrrr...

Breathe... Just breathe
Spit and wipe the tears from your face
Sweat in my eyes burns like
The acid in my throat but
At least it's done...
At least I hope
Dead Sep 11
Funny the older I get the more I find myself changing
The ways I hurt myself always change, different pains. Same vices

As appealing as seeing my blood make those strange designs as they drip down my arms sounds.
It’s becoming harder to hide the wounds.

Maybe it’s the self doubt? Challenging myself on the most minor choices. Eating away at me.

Becoming obsessive over friends, strangers, anyone really.
Knowing I’m not their problem.

Or maybe it’s the drugs, the same ones that keep my brain at bay are the ones that make the grey matter rot,

it’s all about moderation, and tonight I have none.

I’m on a drive,
I’m smoking a cigarette
I’m hearing very little
I’m feeling even less
Wonder if I’ll see the engine stop, I wonder if these keys will enter my pockets again.

I wonder if the lights fade out or if it’s a cut to black

New weapons.
Same vices.
Good night.
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