Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Ankit J Chheda Nov 2022
Wave after wave we rode the highs,
Steadying our footing before the next rise,
It all crashes into laughter and the salty foam,
Time flew by as the clouds framed the setting sun,
Lighting our path as the time came to head back home.

I lived in the fleeting moments loving the rush of being alive,
Forgetting about the dark night that lay over the horizon,
As we crossed the threshold back into our abode,
The interlude ended as the last light receded from the windows,
Leaving me in unattended in the murk of my thoughts.

Unequipped for the blackness that glared at me,
I searched for a glimmer of a forgotten dream,
There was once a fire that shone bright my hopes & ambitions,
Not even embers remain that I may stoke a new flame,
Aimlessly I move through the motions of the daily mundane.

Slowly collapsing under the unbearable weight,
Wishing that I could find meaning in life,
Or give up altogether and end it tonight,
"Why am I even here?" Echoes back at me from the dark,
I fear there is nothing else left for me here.
I have stopped enjoying everything I once used to, like music, reading and spending time with people, I find it hard to continue with work as I am very uninspired in life, unable to create as I once used to be able to, I don't seem to be able to care for anything or anyone now. I am tired.
When up is down,
left twists into right
Green burns brown,
day becomes night.
I'm walking on the ceiling
confused by everything.
Feeling that I am unfeeling
as I don't know anything.
sdᴉๅɟ ʍouʞ I ɔᴉɓoๅ ǝɥʇ uǝɥM
op oʇ ʇɐɥʍ ǝɯ ๅๅǝʇ ǝsɐǝๅꓒ
Shruti Atri May 2020
Charred
From flames past
Stunned into silence
By their selfishness,
anger,
detachment,
indifference...

He hears their voices
screeching
his name--
The void awakening
to consume
his sanity

He whispers,
defeated,
"Can I steal
my Self away
from this world now please?"
“Dark, unfeeling and unloving powers determine human destiny.” - Freud
EmB Feb 2019
My heart feels blocked, my fingers unable to unlock its doors.
Perhaps time moves too fast
for it to be processed.
Or maybe this icy chill has crept in
through my thick curtains and made its home
in my chest.
My heart, my mind are numb.
Where are you emotions? Where are you poems?
The words don’t pour out anymore,
I’ve seemed to have lost my voice
or maybe I’ve gotten used to being silenced.
Postal Leo Jan 2019
So you cheated, which is something I honestly expected.
Doesn't mean I’m not destroyed, I'm really quite affected.
I was hoping it wouldn't go this away, and together we would be great!
But at the end of the day I was your cheap thrill, a way to increase your heart rate.

Because i need a break from you, girl worried about getting to the next base,  
That is, before I escalate the situation, punch someone in the face.
An interesting experience, and I hate to sound cruel,
But your breaking my heart Tuts, i hate being another's tool.
And your best friend assured me you cared a whole lot.
“Yeah, I'm sure.”  I said after, just wanting to smoke some ***.
“No, she really does, and loves you, this is all a big mistake.”
“Yeah? If it were truly like that I would be great”
I think a better word there is ecstatic.
But my imaginary friend was back, “Don’t be so dramatic.”

I loved holding you, and I'm sure you felt the same.
You were my Peach, in this stupid game.
But you took the game too far, why oh why.
And now the other boys are busy, making, a Peachpie...

Some like to scream, and others just love to pray…
Me? I just hope I don't get in the way.
But you, you proved my hypothesis right…
Do remember when i said i loved you, late that night?
Then you broke my trust, dashed me into pieces.
So here am, righting yet another thesis,
Against the name of love, put Cupid to shame,
******, I’m liar, here I go screaming your name.
Beautiful Peach, you wound me so…
And now, I’m completely out of ammo.
Do i ever want to see you again, i don’t know.
But you made a man into a shadow..

So in conclusion.
Not a single man, woman or child, should be deluded.
If I take you back, will be your last chance.
But, I’mma need 50 in advance.
For Her.
Shane Rowe Nov 2018
I just want to cry
I can't seem to do that lately
My mess is all bottled up inside
But the cork is ******* on tightly
Tears don't come as fast it should
What an unnerving feeling
My emotions has betrayed me
Has drained me
I am feeling nothing and everything at once
It makes the room spin slightly
A hole where the loudness started
Has grown bigger each day
Sneaking its way into my dreams
To torment me awake
I lay in silence til dawn breaks
I do not feel safe
Sleep, old friend
Come as soon as you can
It's 3 am.
zb May 2018
they kneel in the
corner of the room, unaware
maybe uncaring
most definitely unfeeling

apathy: a symptom of depression
in their case, undiagnosed suffering

over the years of fighting
a disease that wanted them dead,
they learned what the worst part was.
not the self-hatred.
not the permanent exhaustion.
not the intrusive thoughts.
not the suicidal urges,
not the emotional instability.

it was the apathy.

they had periods of time,
hours, maybe days
in which they couldn't feel anything
a horrible numbness
like saltwater crawling in their veins
like their skin was drawn too tight
like their heart had stopped beating
hours of nothing.
days of nothing.
terrifying, but not
because they couldn't feel fear.

the apathy was an infection
they could not find it in them to care
they could not find it in them to smile
to laugh
to cry
to shout
to love
they could not find it in them to live.

the apathy was the
emotional equivalent
of a sensory deprivation chamber,
the kind intended for torture;
a horrible lack of sensation
designed to bring a person
to the brink of an indifferent insanity.

years later,
and i have recovered
i have grown
but in the darkest moments,
when i feel the saltwater
lap at my ankles
when i don't feel the terror
i know i should

i wonder
if this time is the time
from which i can't
recover.
i wonder
if this time is the time
in which i will forever lose
my ability to love.
Poetic T Apr 2018
Soiled nappies
        filled with discontent.

That the world is
     always uncomfortable
     and full of discomfort..
Next page