Em Jul 5
i can’t find them
i can’t find anything
i’ve lost them all
in piles
of clothes
or pens
or paints.
i just saw them
why can’t i
just fucking
grab them.
people say organization is important
and to them it makes sense.
i tell them that i know.
i do.
i know.
but if my brain is a mess
as it has been forever,
will i lose myself if i organize it?
I don't know. I'm going through a rough, rough time of lacking motivation and inspiration. My head is whirling with ideas but every time I get them out they aren't good enough.
Jungdok Jul 2
You know that feeling when you can't write a goddamn poem but wanted to write so bad that you end up being miserable and lonely and insecure about yourself?
Gray Jun 21
I just cannot stand confrontation.
It’s simply the worst possible frustration.

Nothing can escape the spiteful comments that people thoughtlessly threw aside.
Might as well call it the friendship suicide.

All this yelling gets me feeling so worn out and tired.
Leading to me being uninspired.

I end up losing all forms of motivation,
And rather stay hidden completely in isolation.

Why would i want to stick around and listen to my friends argue?
It would be toxic to absorb in that painfully dark hue.

I would rather be alone than experience anymore confrontation,
After all I believe it to be one of the worst traits of any given conversation.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we all just get along?
Why keep contributing to making everything go so horribly wrong?
I think I am wasting my time
In my search
For inspiration.
The Economic Power Structure
Holds most of us down
In its grip.
Spontaneity and originality
Are rare.
If one wants to,
One can look at nude photos
But most of the poses
Are scripted too.
emmaa May 31
i can’t bring myself to write
i think the words might be
too much
too true
i have nothing
but my truths
if i can’t write
about my truth
then what else do i have?
Gideon Mar 23
I keep erasing the words I write
With no life or soul in a poem
Why bother writing one at all
Ash Feb 12
Your thoughts go blank
Nothing seems right
Nothing is good enough
Or it doesn't make sense put together
You want to write
To spill your guts out onto paper
But you don't have the words to make it happen
I have writers block.
It’s the new year,
Time for resolution, or inevitable revival
The point of this winter season when everything seems…
New and fresh, like anything is possible.
But is it really, if all we will do is make the same resolutions
And live out our consistent, boring lives
Grasping to the idea that change,
Only change,
Will somehow add meaning to the meaningless-
Inspire the uninspired.
We find that so easily our life will pass us by,
And we will cascade into our indifference
For the lives we made for ourselves and the unimportant choices we took
Even though we heard the necessary calling for change,
We ignored it,
Until the year changed and our lives became one year bleaker.
Call me cynical, or pessimistic
But the change we crave, the change we ache,
Is too busy living inside of the dream of a fresh start
Instead of living inside our lives.
kas Dec 2017
i'm constantly stuck between
bones and blood and amphetamines
i keep thinking that
i can have it all if i just find the right scene
and i can see toxic thoughts like toxic waste
contaminating the oceans of my mind
a bitter aftertaste, a better nursery rhyme
the glowing eyes of my demons
reflecting off the blade of a knife
and the half smiling rings on the coffee table
are the only things keeping me
company at night
i never thought i'd ever describe pain as
"almost warm in the right light"
i'm stuck here, falling apart
a glass object breaking in slow motion
becoming bones before tomorrow starts
fissures turn to fractures, an explosion
kids these days call that abstract art
who i am hates who i used to be,
and who i was always wanted to be
a human typewriter who knows
how everyone's stories begin and end
a tree limb that never breaks, only bends
the back end of a horse
a street with a dead-end
a best friend a godsend
wind me up and watch me pretend
turning circles and spitting up my
heart on my bedroom floor.
"this is as good as it gets, my friend."
SwordNPen Dec 2017
I put pen to paper every single day
and my pages still end up blank
I have no muse this deafness is
like a noose. Im living in a world
with no words. What can I do?
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