Hello Poetry is a poetry community that raises money by advertising to passing readers like yourself.

If you're into poetry and meeting other poets, join us to remove ads and share your poetry. It's totally free.
Pained words
Heard at night,
Words rewind
Replay
Repeat, overlay
Become twisted
In the middle of the night.

Pained words
Twisted in the morning
Heard, back turned,
Nothing but empty tears

Pained words
Unshared
Interested and
Harmless.
Eleanor Rigby Oct 29
Spilling your coal black insides
In coal black ink,
Into a snow white sheet.

Your twisted coal black
Little cunning friends
All have the same breath.

Some are demons,
Some are whispers,
And one of them is death.


-- Eleanor
Joseph Loggi Oct 25
Sell it away
By merry tide
and listen here
Till its ideals
Are wrapped
In parchment
and tin foil
to mock the
prettiest idols.
Aaryn Oct 25
the color has drained from my face
the light is gone behind my eyes
Ive stopped sleeping
Soon I'll stop eating
and then a relapse

I'll take out that thin silver blade
The one that only I know about
its hidden in a place
no one would look

I'll place it against my skin
and push
then pull
and all of this pain
will flow from my veins
onto the ground
a crimson river

but if it flows too long
or too fast
not only will the pain leave
but the euphoria will start
And before I know it
my arm is covered in gashes
ones that I won't be able to explain

And then
I feel the colors return
and the light flickers back on
and I am happy

so, fine
self harm isn't healthy
but it makes me happy
so why do you take it away?
I'm not trying to **** myself when I self harm and I have control of the blade... I know how to properly dress wounds and keep them from becoming infected.... and if watching the blood drain from my body is unhealthy then so be it... but for some twisted reason it releases everything and helps me be happy - even if it's for a short while.
julianna Oct 20
In a different reality,
I would be wearing two-toned shorts,
Do crazy makeup,
And dye my hair
I’d carry a bat and wear a shirt
That said I was your monster
I’d be your crazy baby
And you, my evil man
But sadly Harley and The Joker
Don’t think the way I can
I’ve always wanted a twisted love and honestly, we’d have it. But things are different than I want and right now, that’s
what I need.
Mandalina Oct 9
I'm scared if a lot of things;

The night; for it keeps tricking me into bad situations

My dreams; for they keep turning into nightmares I can't escape

But most of all I'm terrified of my thoughts.
My mind is twisted,
messed up,
and I can't untangle it.

I don't want to,
but I'm so mislead.

I'm scared,
and I need your help.

For the root and spark in all my fears is also a friend I keep near.
It's sharp,
made of steel,
and fuels my dreams.

It's always there in the dark night
and keeps me company.
It paints my canvas red
and it makes me feel again.

My biggest fear is to cut.



-j.m.k
_an old poem_
Shartles the rodeo clown
his tidy whities speckled, with brown
no fear to display, clowning away
staring the steers out, and down

He's the epitome of perfect poise
over the tumult, and all of the noise
in barrel to hop, his *** cracks, and pops
the bull's olfactory senses, destroyed

Saving the cowboys his rule
using each and yes, every tool
as he's feeling the need
his wife at home pleads
"not in your underwear, stool!"

He's a part of the annals and fame
everyone knows his clown name
Shartles ever will be
rodeo history
with just his bowels
too blame
Shart: When you have poo at the same time you **** ROFL.
Yes, sick, perverted, but funny as all **** too!
You can't tell me, you didn't at least smile ;D
Here I lay in my comfort composure
Listening to every rythm of my music
Removing my white earphone to listen
To listen to the beauty of nature raining
Picturing myself as a randrop falling; free
Picturing the placid movement of water
Moving as one, cold breeze and heavy gravitational pull
Thinking back to when I'd lay in
comfort
Listening to every perfect beat of your heart
Concentrating on the whispers of your spirit
Being attentive to your chords as you release them
Piercing my mind, quaking
through my flesh
To simply un-wither that was even desintegrated
Your love circulating my veins
Simply
By speaking
Rippling accross my seams
Bolting through my body more
than any drug ever
Hanging me on your hook
Touring to the meadow in my
dreams
Conquering the battles in my
nightmares
Re-writing the words on my page
that is life
Then
After enough re-painting
Of my story
You started to un-write my book
Crossing the hearts
Tearing the written pages
Oh how I could only stand and
stare
Oh how all you did, difficultly
Glare
The whispers your soul gave
withered
Cleared and filléd my mind
vacant
Was I abandoned by your heart
So easily the welcoming door
Became an unbidden command
requested
This hour
Is when I play it back;
Remenisce about it
Laying alone, in discomfort
Listening to no beats
Not even one of my own
Then I close my eyes violently
Shoving back the emotion
To silently replay those words
I love you
Always
Crashing down
Bolting tar through my body
Poisoning my mind
Rippling through my veins
That same poison
Is what I use
To **** inside me
What demons creep
See the story has a twist
What I feared most
What demons I feared even more
Is exactly what I became
The poison inside me
Crisply ogling at me
Inside the cage
Compresséd
Inside what
We call a
Mirror
A very long poem yes I know, if you read this far thank you. It's 03:26 and I just think back to the best days of my life
Venus Sep 23
Glancing to your left
Your eyes focus on the familiar sight of your girlfriend

Driving away from the sunset and toward the house you both own
You pass the abandoned houses until you reach the best-looking one
You take your bag from the car
Step inside the home

The light coming through the ceiling
Familiar pets scurrying along the floor
You lay your sleeping bag on the hard floor next to each other

The white lead paint peels from the walls
And you hold onto your future wife

You look through the holes in the ceiling to the stars above you

Glancing to your right there is a pile of needles
The scurrying mice from before greeting you

And nest in your past girlfriend's hair across the room
Your girlfriend doesn't know what she has gotten herself into
Until she sees the knife you have against her throat.
Just read it...otherwise, you won't fully understand
Next page