#tw poems on Hello Poetry

Nola Leech Feb 2021

He punched me last week
And told me that he was joking and that's between me and him
My friends saw and helped me break it off yesterday
Today is my eighteenth birthday
And I am nothing like my mother

#abuse #breakup #abusive #triggerwarning #tw

brynna Feb 2021

fantasy

pulling petals
until march 5th
will it be you
that i share my life with

#poetry #freeverse #tw #depression #love

Parker Vance Feb 2021

I shouldn't write like this anymore

Midday and the whisper of a chill rode the end of the breeze.
****** feet and a restless tongue; You never knew how to hurt me.
I didn’t know much about human anatomy but I could read charts
of the spine, heart, ribs, where are the unconventional entrances.
I decided on the space between the third and the fourth rib.
Dug in as hard as I could.

#twsuicide #suicide #confessional #selfharm #tw #poetry #poem

Jaicob Feb 2021

Oh, Ana,

Ana,

I've known you for a while,
And at first I was afraid.
I didn't know what you'd do
Or whether you could help me.

Now I don't see why
Everyone I know is so
Pressed about me
Being friends with you...

I don't know why
they don't like you.
They try to keep me away
From you and your help.

You're a kind person,
And you've helped me.
You make me happy.
You fix my problems.

I hope you can explain
Why people don't like you.

#ed #tw #anorexianervosa #anorexia #skinny #thin #ana #mia #bulimia

bs Feb 2021

Where a Poem about My Body Becomes One about being Touched

and in that deafening silence,
i’ve never wished more to be heard,
wracked with endless demurs of regret and remorse –
impure, impure, impure.

ii.
but it’s my choice, isn’t it?
to bear the knot of pearls come undone,
to feel it shift from skin to soul,
to speak of loving, and then let go.
(i see this now as a luxury i could not afford.) iii.
if i don’t rise come blooming spring,
ring the church bells for those left unheard,
wash the red from the bed sheets,
please unhinge my strife from the earth;

and know this:

a man is no longer a man,
after his unbidden pillage,
has left an innocent soul shaken;
unholy.

holy, holy, holy.

#tw #**** #assault

Theanm Ankh Is Also Human Jan 2021

The Breakfast Banana's Dying Dancer

It was funny how
Before her summer of fourteen
Her life became
A longing dream
Small waist,
Big hips,
Double Ds,
Thigh gap,
An hourglass.
E, t, c.
This was her list and the time,
Time
Tick---
Tick---
Ticked away like grains of sand and salt
The scale reads one five zero.

She had a
Banana for breakfast, just one:
Yellow and clammy,
The way her skin had become and yet it was
Cool and smooth to the touch.
Milky. Like that dancer's dying eyes
After the teacher had told her to drop a few pounds.
Well, now she hangs a few pounds.
Just for a few pounds.
Toes pointed perfectly.

Do you like
How she floats now?
Are her little freckled arms
Light at her sides now?
Angelic, you wanted, and angel you now have.
Held up by a halo of rope around her 14-year-old throat.

I hope you still get a chance to watch her dance from hell.

#tw #ed #dancer #ballet #suicide

sophie Jan 2021

9.

her way of venting is unique
other than poems
which is pretty normal
she thinks

while showering
she sits down
puts some background beats on high
and sings her heart out
it’s all improvisation
but it helps
a little

tonight
she sang of hurt and
staying alive
for her friend’s sakes
but never for her own

is she ok?
she doesn’t know

not the best, but not absolutely horrid

#depression #anxiety #tw #fear #crying #shower #mentalillness

Fey Dec 2020

The night isn't gentle anymore

The night isn't gentle anymore.
Its darkness has a vice-like grip,
shattered, unwelcome
on her fragile throat,
leading to a crimson door,
full of destructive, intrusive thoughts about
sleeping
with eyes never wanting to open
again.

The night no longer offers rest
for her shattered, melancholical, heavy head
to gently abide the terrors of
turning silver to red on her already scarred flesh,
beucase life seems to stay
just like that.

© fey (30/12/20)

inspired by LETTRE À ÉLISE | by Efisio Cross

#tw #triggerwarning #depression

trashcanpoetry Dec 2020

he isn't a good guy

i can still hear you whispering in my ear-
raspy and deep because you smoke two packs of marlboros
every day.

when i come to visit home,
you still look at me like you're scared.
i think it's because you know the power that i hold.

you know that i have had every chance
to tell these people what you did to me-
and i chose not to

not for you
for me.

#tw #triggerwarning #assault #forme #abuse

brynna Dec 2020

canvas of blades

my body is but a canvas
for my blades to construct upon

TW: Self Harm

#selfharm #tw #depression