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Poetic T Apr 2021
The restrictions upon my self
worth, never the right, write,
              wording, metaphor

of what I wish to show you, u, me.

That even though I don't cry or
                scream, I'm swaying

every sentence I write, right to  
the point that there was never
a chair to hold words.

Instead, I bleed my word, pain
with every stanza that collected
beneath holding me up.

Until I wrote so much that there
wasn't just air beneath me but solid
              meaning wanting to
hold me higher than that which
may make me fall...
Liz Carlson Mar 2021
i can see you slipping,
slowly but surely,
you don't ask for help,
don't see how it can be made better,
i try to help,
but really what can i do other than
love and pray for you.

my dear,
it hurts to watch you slowly drown,
rushing through life,
undergoing the pressure.

im scared for what will happen to you,
im scared we will drift apart,
never to be drawn close again,
im scared you'll go too far.

every conversation feels timed,
like every word has to be perfectly chosen.

i don't want to burden you if i need something
or if something is on my mind.
i want to help you the best i can,
but its exhausting for me too to see you keep
struggling and none of my efforts or prayers seeming
to amount to anything.

i know i ought to keep up the hope,
God will provide for you
and teach you something in the process,
its just hard to watch the one i love the most
slipping away and feeling overwhelmed and exhausted.
Maniacal Escape Jul 2020
Hold tight. White knuckles.
Buttered hands, oiled pole.
Stand strong. Tall, proud.
Shaky podium, slippy shoes.
Stay sane. Fake smile.
Maniacs room, door ajar.
SA Szumloz May 2020
Life in front of a TV screen
Isn't a good place to be
Blowing up like a balloon,
Your life slips away too soon
With eyes glazing over
And days growing somber
What are you living for?
Reality shows? ****?
There's no wake-up call
In that screen in the wall
Telling you to get up
And start living.
Thoughts?
Felicity Paris Apr 2020
is this what support feels like?

a stranger tapping on my back
helping me gather all of the things
slipping out from my fingers
that I never even noticed were missing
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