Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Her words
were deep
like still water
that remembers storms.

My replies
were deeper,
echoes carved
from silence and soul.

She whispered,
“I wish I could buy you.”
And I,
without hesitation,
said,
“You can.”

She paused,
eyes holding the question,
“And what would your price be?”

I looked away,
toward the night sky
that never belonged to anyone,
and answered,
“My freedom!”
And she left...
Maria 22h
What do I want? The meaning, I guess.
But only such as can fill me whole,
All my gaps and all my holes.
Yes, I want such meaning, I guess.

What else, you ask me? Freedom, I guess.
Where I won’t be in the grips,
Where the pain won’t throb in my temples.
Yes, I want such freedom, I guess.

What do I dream of? Silence, I guess.
No sounds, no creaks, no rustles at all,
A calm pulse and the air in whole.
Yes, I dream of such silence, I guess.
Maybe it's a soul-searching... Or it's an attempt to escape...
Thank you very much for reading it! 💖
Julie 2d
Just Stab Me With Your Knife
Instead of stabbing me with your silence🥀
-julie
Julie 2d
Make me bleed
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀stab me
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀stab my heart out
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀but
⠀⠀⠀⠀please don't give me your silence
It hurts more than an actual knife to the heart.
— julie
Piyush 2d
Somewhere, promises fell apart,
Somewhere else, a new vow starts.
Someone's heart is making gains,
While someone else is counting pain.

You've found comfort in someone new,
Yeah... I think I always knew.
Your city's crowded, your time too tight,
No space for even a moment’s goodbye.

Why does the world never stand still?
Why does it always go against your will?
I'm at the verge of losing my sight,
Yet I see you there shining bright.

I see you standing there,
Facing the world alone here,
So strong, like you don’t even care,
While I still break with every stare.

My final day is here,
The sky will be bright as ever,
But my dream isn't here,
My life is lost in this player.
"My Life is lost in this player"
-Piyush
Two minutes, we sacrifice.
The value of a human life.
Not to work two minutes harder,
or push ourselves 2 minutes further.

Not enough to contemplate
the pain and fear, the spite and hate.
Not 2 minutes to reparate,
our broken world, our shattered people.
The ones we left, who've grown so feeble.

We give 2 minutes for those who died.
Who died in wars so many times.
War and again, over and over,
and louder, the silence,
and longer, the violence,
so dilute in its gunfire and sirens.

Silence, 2 minutes, for those who died.
Yet silence eternal, for those deprived,
of human rights, and chance to live,
If only 2 minutes were all we'd give.
About: I want people to have to think about the meaning of this one, rather than telling them outright like I usually do.
Dylan A 3d
The glimmer in your eye
          doesn’t shine the way I remember.
There’s still kindness in your gaze,
          but it feels hollow.
Your eyes look worn,
          like you haven’t slept in years.
Do you even remember
          who you are?
Still I give you the coffee
          that you might love more than me.
So I can sleep next to you
          while you stay up at night.
Lips together, pressed,
as if you were the one dead,
"Wake up"-your only prayer,
but death doesn't care.
Now you can only choke,
on words you never spoke.
28/4/25
We almost made it...
through storms, through silence,
through every soft apology
... we only whispered in our minds.

Now the house still holds our echoes,
but not our warmth.
And the bed is just a treaty
signed in tired backs and shallow breathing.

We weren’t broken.
Just bent too far
to remember how to bend back.
Intimacy doesn’t always shatter, it often softens into absence, a quiet fading of what once felt infinite.
Next page