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Remember the time you asked me to write something about you.I told you will write it someday but I wrote you letters everyday.Despite, I didn’t send you each day.But, once in a week.

I wrote you letters because I wanted a way through which I can give my feelings the words to reach you out there. I guess, I failed to give emotions to my words and maybe that’s the reason I never got replies.

I write about my day, no surprise my journal’s pages are over flowing with your name.

As I go through those pages, I realise how badly I was wounded by your love which was never mine.

I was true even when you were being pretentious, that’s the reason your ‘I love you’ never touched my heart.

I never saw any defect in you, but you saw a lot in me because you always looked at me through your mind, and I looked at you through my heart.

With you, even the wrong was right.

I don’t wanted my heart to lie my mind, anymore.

So, I walked away. Not because I stopped loving you

It’s because, my connection with me was disconnected to connect that I disconnected with yours.

But you will stay forever not in my heart rather on the last page of my diary.
alexis hill Jan 5
no one said it was easy
you create the path
spread the base on
it’s foundation
you lay the map

it’s the grapes of wrath
life got a ghastly grasp
seasoned in your present
like your soul is wrapped

i pack the first for last
i muled some dimes and sacks
intricate in so much evil like
they like their snacks

i’m sober now
so that’s all in the past
but i slaved for many years
i broke its back

sedated lids
sealed like permanent naps
but awake with rage
anxiety pulsating heart attacks

snaps for the poetry that
kept me from going mad
claps for the music
that kept me from crying over dad

i work and slave just
to pay the tax
i try to keep one face on
so i can ditch the mask

i haven’t written in a while
i thought i lost my raps
but i guess some things
in life just always last
first time i’ve been sober in a while. i was always so worried i lost my creativity. and i’m glad to say i still got it.
Rowan Jan 2
can't sleep

i'm overcome by monsters, dark and vicious, ready for a feast

           i can see them coming after me if i close my eyes for too long

they're strong, sadistic, twisted clawing towards me

           among them are shadows with claws, open jaws

some are people though, eyes full of anger and hunger
      smiles large and disturbing
          
           i see my father, i see the boogeyman i hid from as a child

i see
                            
                                ­       Nothing

it always stops right before they reach me

               shaking, afraid, tired
  
                      Oh so very tired

i've wrapped myself so tightly in blankets to stop the shaking but it does nothing

               i've resorted to sleeping with a light, trying with all my might to ignore the shadows

they dance and turn, howl and cackle, gaze and smile, beckon me to join them

                      i am scared
                      
                                   ­                   i am lost

                                                           ­                           i am alone

why can't i find home, i know the address

         know what it looks like but my maps don't lead me there

No
               it leads me through a hell unknown

tell me when does it end?

           because i'm tired of this game and just want some comfort

before i can no longer breathe
Spike Harper Dec 2019
Once in a great while
A spectacular event takes place.
One in which involve two parts.
Like orange and purple.
It just works.
But sometimes the work put in degrades the quality.
Depending how you look at it.
Everything is dying a little every second.
These cycles spin clocks.
turn moments into memories.
You must choose how you involve your presence into others stories.
For some tales aren't meant to be joined.
There are forces beyond comprehension.
Those that make the cosmos dwarf in comparison.
My God have we given praise to so many unworthy things.
Like ourselves.
What could be more selfish than expecting anything from probability..
Take the number of ways you could have come into this world.
Multiply by eviromental factors.
Then add every experience you can.
And somehow it all comes out to who you are right now.
Then finding one that matches this formula..
Near impossible.
Which is the reason those that do find eachother...
Never let go.
The universe willed this moment into existence.
One must have the will to accept.
Lest ye fall into an Oblivion of thy own design.
One on which there is no escape.
True hell.
Is to watch your paradise burn.
Kath Kane Sep 2019
Left on the side of the road,
Nowhere to go,
I COULD HAVE DIED.
I swear you wanted me to.
A blow to the face,
A broken nose,
A black eye,
An apology.
A sign of respect.
That was the day I realized you loved me.
When you could have killed me but stopped.
A sign of respect.

I always remember that day not for you trying to end my life but for you deciding not to.
I thanked you.

Four months later and we are back at it again.
I am driving,
You,
Yelling.
I thank god this time and not you. I thank him that I am the one driving and in control. Not you.  
But even in full power,
You find a way to steal my freedom and obtain total dominance.
You never give up in wanting me to give up,
But you do eventually leave.
Slowly.
First you untack your safety net,
And then you gave in with your want for cold blood ******.
I loved those parts of you.
Signs of respect.

The day you really did leave,
Safety net and all,
I watched you out my window,
Thanking you under my breath.
Your last act of sin still leaves a mark around my neck.
I thank god again. Not you.
I thank him that the seat belt locked in my 1993 Buick.
A sign of respect.
A letter to my first car.
Rianna Aug 2019
Well.

You came,
We met,
We spoke,
You left.
And guess what?
It did the trick,
Again!

Cause here I am,
Here I came, for you!
Prancing, ready.
Here I am!
Can you believe it?
Because I,
Cannot,
Cannot, really…
…I swear! I'm ready,
Waiting!!
Ready!

I’ve waited now, for long,
So won’t you come along?
Unleash yourself upon,
Me?
For I am of the ‘damsel’,
Of your making.
For you, I lie prepared,
Palatable, steady.

So come on now!!
What’s the wait for??
Aren’t you there?
Ready?
Ready to try what you’ve created?
What you’ve extracted of me
From ashes, shreds, and disgusting peels?!
Do you want me?
After all that you have created,
Lies.
Begging,
At your feet.
First time writing from the perspective of a character. A spontaneous piece from my notes. Meant to be read as spoken word.
Josey Jun 2019
I’m scared to write poetry at school
Because the other kids might look at my computer screen while I type
And see the thoughts on my screen in size 12 Times New Roman font
Because one day I may drop my journal
Just for some lackluster football player to pick it up and see
My heart poured onto the pages
In lines and phrases
And see my name and phone number at the top of the page
And realize who I am and what I’m hiding
I’m scared of writing poetry at home
Because my mother may walk in and see me staring
As if my one redeeming quality lies hidden in the cracks and lines of the plaster of my wall
Because my father may see me scribbling on a notebook page at the dinner table
With glazed eyes holding back tears of the pain
And the stories I’ve kept from him to make sure
That one day when I leave his house I will still be his baby girl
The same one he brought into this world
Because one day my older brother may walk up to me on the living room couch
When no one else is home and ask me what I’m doing
As I reply
Homework
And as he walks away he may see me slam my computer in a frustrated rage
That he never thought I could have at my age
I’m scared to write poetry in the library
Because the vicious clacking of my keyboard keys may attract the attention
Of the lonely librarian who just wants to keep the peace of her quite place
Because when she goes home to her family her loud grandchildren scream with all their might
But she still puts up with it because the only time she sees them
Is when her ungrateful children need a babysitter
And her husband asks her what’s for dinner over and over forgetting the answer
As she expects a different question to arise from his lips.
Because one day at the library someone might ask about the tears running down my face
As I type and pour my soul into each and every word
As I stain my notebook with the salty water seeping from deep within
I’m scared of writing poetry
Because one day when I’m not looking
Someone will look at my screen and read what I have to say
Or someone will look at my notebook and see the different colored scribbles and soggy pages
Because they will read what I think what I know and what I believe
Because them knowing what’s going on in my head
Means that they can judge me
And take guesses at who I am when the darkness creeps back into my heart
And the fog rolls over my brain
Because they won’t just think they will know what’s happened to me
Because one day I will be dead and my children and grandchildren
will see what I was going through at their age
They will learn of my mistakes and hidden flaws they
And they will see what I have to say
And they will think differently of me
I’m afraid to write poetry
But that doesn't mean I will stop
Because the thoughts in my head only come out clearly when in the lines of a poem
Because expressing what I’m thinking and letting the voices out of my head
Is the only way I can understand how I feel
Because of my anger and happiness and sadness
Because I love it
Josey Jun 2019
My generation
will be known for
Abortion Laws
Fortnight
And Youtube Drama
Being the first to know there are more than 2 genders
And being some of the last to know a time
Where same *** marriage didn’t exist
The last ones to grow up with
Box tvs
And flip phones
The first to dream of playing video games
for a living
And not only touching the stars
But being one
We will be known
for wanting to Die
We will be known as a depression statistic
And a suicide rate
We will be remembered as the ones
Who used our words incorrectly
Starving instead of
Hungry
Depressed instead of
Sad
Happiness is a
Lie
We are a generation of
Thieves
Miscreants
Liars
Losers
And harsh words
We are not forgiving
Or understanding
We do not listen
We interrupt
We jump to conclusions
We are racist
Sexist
and Homophobic
We will be remembered as the ones glued to our phones
tablets
And laptops
We are careless with others' feelings
And careful to not get caught
We are cold and darring
We are annoying and stupid
We are so many things
But loving
doesn’t seem to be one of our qualities
If we loved
We would have to think before we act
We would have to put others before ourselves
And have respect for everyone
We would have to realize that words
Cut deeper than daggers that slice vital organs
And make us bleed
as if we have nothing left to lose
We are young
We are thoughtless
ungrateful
And cruel
Plucking hope and pride
like it’s the wings of a fly
Taking away basic human rights
Like a toy in the sandbox
We
Are generation Z
The last of our kind
Fingers crossed
Josey Jun 2019
I like to gamble
I play blackjack on my phone sometimes
It’s easy that’s why I like it
Not many rules but still a game of chance
But I’m 15
So it’s sort of illegal for me to gamble
only by 3 years
But when I was ***** I was 13
So the age of consent 3 years away
All the same
I like to gamble
Sometimes I’ll stay home from school
With no rhyme or reason
Just depression of the season
But I won’t text any of my friends
for the first few classes of the day
That way I can see their responses
And see if they wonder if I’m ok
My mom doesn’t ask question
Just a tear or two
And new hairdo
Doesn’t seem to grab her attention
I like to gamble
One time I dyed my hair red to black ombré
And came home with a belly button ring
It took her a week to notice the new color
And she still hasn’t noticed the metal
She hasn’t noticed the scars either
I like to gamble
Sometimes I’ll steal alcohol from the liquor cabinets of my home
And I’ll sneak out my window and into my friend's car
I like to gamble
Standing on the edge of a tall building
The wind blowing through my hair
And down my spine making me shiver
Wondering what would happen if I were to just move an inch
Wishing I would just move an inch
I like to gamble
But I’m not very good at it cards, money it’s all the same
Alcohol, death it’s just a game
Maybe if I quit it won’t save
And I could start a whole new level
Get rid of the pain
Because I like to gamble
with life and death
Because it’s worth as much as the money on my phone
Coins that you’ll never hear clang
It’s just a game
I like to gamble
Sometimes I won’t take my medicine
Just to see how much it changes
The feelings it exchanges
For depression
I don’t like taking it to friends houses
Because they can see me swallow my happiness
It’s not something I’m proud of
I like to gamble
One time I had a thought about poking a hole in a ******
That my boyfriend and I were about to use
Just to see if next month I would bleed
Just to see if a month from that day I would walk up to him
And say
Congratulations
A new pediatrics patient
I like to gamble
But I’ve played all my cards
I stare at the dealer
Like I’m staring at the stars
In wonder and awe
Confused and deranged
Isn’t it strange
How a game holds so much sway
But the only thing I don’t like about the game
Is the steep price I have to pay
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