Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Amanda Kay Burke Apr 2020
Hope the feeling of worthlessness flees my worried frame

Can you make my brain stable?

When you know the security code
Punch into my mental keypad
No other combination of words will silence the alarms of self-loathing blaring within
Ricocheting off the walls of my skull
Echoing each and every flaw exposed in myself

All it takes
One little thing to trip the sensor
And it hurts my whole defense system

You are the one able to disarm my security
And the reason is because you installed it
I had no method of protecting myself before you put me in your perspective
Now when something breaks through defense mechanism
Instead of letting confidence get stolen
Triggered noise helps me block out the negativity and focus on things I do like about myself
Then to revert my day back to normal completely all you have to do is enter the magic passcode with a sweet whisper in my ear
"You're beautiful"
Using a burgular alarm as a metaphor for an emotional defense barrier
Jaxey Apr 2020
if thieves steal
because they want to be chased
then you are the one
with the heart in your hands
and i'm the one
running
did you want this?
Poetic T Apr 2020
bells shaking free dew
hymns praise an awakening

symbol of rebirth
rk Mar 2020
red wine
stained our lips,
with clumsy hands
tracing moonlight
on your skin.
our love got sweeter
with each stolen kiss
and in those moments
i knew,
i would follow you
to any ruin.
- all i could breathe was you.
Maryna Zhubryk Mar 2020
Blaming myself that I am not happy makes no sense, everyone has already decided upstairs, in the air my fate hang. I look like leaves that swirl in the wind.
pearl Mar 2020
he ripped the words from my throat
he locked them away
in a box that he calls a 'coffin'
he dug a pit
and buried them six-feet-under
next to the
grave where my innocence lay
pearl Mar 2020
it is ok
to long for the childhood
that you never got to have
i cannot replace
what was taken from me
Łëïçkî Jan 2020
Kick back.
Steal a beer from your parents fridge.
Pass it around slowly.
Like it's the bread and wine of the last supper.
**** hops and bubbles rise in my throat.
Eyes smarting around the table,
Blinking away the soft burn gathering in the corners of our eyes.
My first taste of freedom fades to fuzzy shapes and images I can't decipher.
Just a little more to take off the edge.
first drink
Grey Jan 2020
It's not my fault
that you've stolen my heart.
January 13, 2020
Next page