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Emma 3d
Sometimes,
When the sun gets low,
And the stars and moon don’t seem to be hanging in the sky,
Taunting me with their ability to disappear into oblivion,
It can feel almost impossible to breathe.

While I know that being unable to breathe
Because there is nothing in the darkness to light my way
Is as about impossible as it is possible for me to love you again,
It is still my reality.

I know that my heart will never be open to the possibility of
surrendering itself so completely to you once more,
Just as well as I know that this weight on my chest isn’t real,
But it doesn’t make the feeling evaporate like water on a blisteringly hot day,
Or even on a slightly too warm for a jumper day.

The harshness of my condition has been taught to me
Like a bunny has been taught to hide
When the foxes stalk it’s way.
Even more so, the cures have been preached to me since
The moment I admitted I led a tormented existence,
And yet my existence has remained tormented.

Maybe this is my moment, my completely, impossible to ignore,
Unavoidable,
Moment.
To quiet those which torment me.
Which taunt me.
Which remind me,
I will never truly escape these chains
That hold me on the starless nights.
Troy Sep 10
Going about the day
Like there’s nothing wrong
Smiling and laughing
Like nothing is going on

Playing games
Hanging out with friends
All bubbly and happy looking
Like nothing is wrong

But under the surface
Ready to burst
Fearing the moment
It boils over

Putting on a fake smile
To hide the tears
Threatening to burst
Without a moments notice

You put on masks everyday
To hide the pain
You wish to not share
In fear of being a burden

Silently hoping
That you keep it together
So you don’t get called attention seeker
Drama queen or a burden

Holding onto that pain
It steadily gets worse
Thoughts race
Mind goes dark

Demons stir and awaken
Shadows twist and warp
Causing panic and fear
Is it real or just your head

Too afraid to ask
Too afraid to speak out
Too afraid to ask for help
Too afraid to push it away

Too afraid to run
Too afraid to cry
Too afraid of being judged
Too afraid of everything

Now hiding alone in the dark
Staying away from everyone else
Hammering your skull
Hoping to beat them out

Breaking down
Silently screaming
Eyes shut tight
Tears running down your face

You break down
Wishing everything was different
That your mental state was normal
Not so tattered and broken

Knees to forehead
Squeezing your legs tighter into you
Hoping the pressure will help
Tears now running down your legs

There a knock at the door
And you switch everything off
Clean up your face and smile
All in a few seconds

Just another mask
Put on daily
In a never ending cycle
Of constant torment
Em MacKenzie Aug 26
I’m sleeping tied in knots,
I’m waking up still yawning;
it’s just become too much.
I’ve been multiplying my shots
looking for an ounce of calming,
but it can be hard to walk, without a crutch.

The stars are looking bleak
I’ve been busy living on the ceiling,
and prodding at my skin
as it’s become numb to all feeling.
And It’s always latest at night
when your head finds a light,
and your mind takes flight
then you gain blinding sight.

I’m sleeping with clenched fists,
and I assume with clenched teeth;
it’s just become this routine.
Body and soul contorts and twists,
layered both above and lying beneath
it’s the most flexible and restrained, I think I’ve ever been.

I had plans for this time,
but they’re reduced down to “oh well,”
begrudgingly accept that this is fine,
maybe dress it up with a “this is swell.”
I might never again see the light
but I’ll adapt to living in the the dark,
evolve, survive; flight or fight
I’ll be nocturnal existing in the park.

Victory has a hundred fathers
but it’s true defeat is an orphan.
The little things that no one bothers,
can be the greatest gifts; overflowing with endorphins.

Can you tell me where to find the bright side?
Apparently it holds all of the answers.
to cure the sickness that plagues my mind;
the worst but least lethal of all the cancers.

I’m counting the minutes
and I’m stacking the week,
and the intensity in it;
so insanely heavy I just can’t speak.
When will these thoughts diminish?
It’s growing stronger, it’s turning bleak.
The floors will shine and shimmer with wax and finish,
but it will never ever silence the creak.
The floorboards inevitably became weak.
Mix and match,
a fix or a patch?
Sharon Thomas May 24
I never want to bleed again;
The way I did before.

For an unrequited love,
That was worth dying for.

The beauty of the rose;
Deceived me,
My love for it,
Blind.


Thorns pierced through my skin,
With a single touch,
Making its way to my
bloodstream.

Thorns that shot poisonous darts;
That lead straight to my heart..

"Oh the torment!"
I cried in pain;

Why was I in agony,
When all I did
was love.
My Dear Poet Apr 23
These thoughts in my head
talk about me like I’m dead
“I’m here, you know!”, I say
but they keep talking away
So I scream all the louder
to get through their laughter
yet they snicker and cheer,
“Get out of here!”,
But I reply, “No!”
“It’s my mind you know!”
and I stay there instead
always in my head
Michael Apr 16
In the end it is known,
we are one with our bones.
What we have is right here.
It is now.  It is real.
In seven days this all was made.
In less than one our temples' laid.
It doesn't matter how we feel.
I'm afraid.
When you realize you’ll never seize the day,
Never have the right things to say,
Your judgments are always erroneous,
You’re not Hamlet, but Polonius.
Though you know that all things must end,
It doesn’t spur your torments to mend,
A dutiful advisor,
Who never gets wiser.
It must be so serene
Never having thought you might have been-
“Neither a borrower nor lender be”;
I say, yet fear both apply to me.
“To thine own self be true”;
ah! Long ago, I missed that cue-
And all do agree,
The audience doesn’t need, my soliloquy.
Under all this weight so crushing
And the envy to just feel nothing,
This act’s end, now I’m certain:
I’ll die off stage, behind a curtain.
Hamlet is my favorite Shakespeare play, and I wanted to write from Polonius’POV
SiouxF Jan 6
The tortoise is a gentle placid creature with a hard shell,
Peeking his head and limbs out
Ambling along
Eating lettuce and grapes
Slowly, calmly, patiently,
Knowing he can retreat into the safety and comfort of his shell
Whenever he feels in danger,
Or to rest, to recuperate, to sleep.

I feel like a tortoise
With my hard shell,
Rarely peeking my head out
But when I do,
Rather than gentleness,
There’s aggression,
Attacking with barbed words that
Slice like a knife through kindness proffered,
My filter of negativity, distrust and insecurity
Biting the hand of anyone who dares get close
Scaring them off
Before retreating back inside my shell
Bruised and battered,
But rather than being a safe haven, a home, a place of comfort,
It’s full of pain, torment and loneliness
JKirin Dec 2020
You are real.

My reflection is foreign, it’s haunted –

You are out there (I see you, I want you).

Lover’s caress spills traces of colour,

Making pain in my heart even duller.

Wishing idly (to touch you, to feel you),

I’m stuck here—this moment, my torment.

Help me heal.
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