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Delton Peele Apr 16
listen up .......
Im folded nicely
not creased
there's a dangerous
difference!
ya feel me?
elle Feb 17
i'm so very far from myself.
i can hear the clock ticking-
every second, never slowing.
the world around me is beginning to blur,
like i'm opening my eyes underwater.

with every tick, i'm seconds closer to drowning.

then again, who am i to say i'm lost?
for weeks i've been repeating the same question.
it swirls in my head, hungry for an answer.

why am i still here?
the fight is becoming impossible.
just like the tears behind my closed eyes, trying to keep them from falling.

my tired arms are beginning to slow in this stifling sea.
the darkness in this room is slowly swallowing it up whole, with me screaming inside.

as i'm suffocating from this slow wave of death, with no air to breathe.

if there are so many people in this house around me,
why must i feel so alone?

i'm out of place in this sea of life.
the clock, still ticking.
time never stops, but how i wish it would,
so i can let the tears fall, without anyone seeing the blur.
so my lifeless mind can drown in silence,
in a stagnant sea.

alone.
i wrote this during a very dark time of my life. it was my first poem and probably my best, enjoy:)
Ariadne Jan 19
All that I am—this hate reflected inward;
An echo of guilt wrapped in disdain
Lost to the inevitability of passing time
Yet still it lives

All that I know—this sadness you see;
I don't let you close though I should
A life gone in an instant leaving nothing behind
But this crumbling façade

All that I feel—this vestigial regret; no, fear;
Ties with which to bind me to this life;
To keep me tethered to this world
Yet still ethereally

All that we project—the unwarranted attacks;
The bridges I've burned, rebuilt, and burned again
All to feel something other than sorrow
Meant for no one

All that I see—the flames around me; burning;
This reflection of what's beyond this calm exterior
The love and hate; The love of hate; The hate of love;
The gyre beneath the surface

All of this turmoil—this undeserved turbulence;
The love I thought to give, but was mistaken
The hate I sought to hide, but was misappropriated
Is all I see

And all I see is failure on my part; of my control;
Of my desires hidden with lock and key;
And of searing anger unconstrained
Eternity in vain
I'm just at a point where I desperately needed to vent with no way other than poetry in mind. So much feels like it's crashing down around me and I've lost my way again.
sylvia Jan 14
i wonder if she'd like to know
about me

i wonder if she'd like to know
about the photos
and the texts
and how old i was

i thought about telling her
i could do it

i told my therapist
i thought about telling her

he didn't even tell me not to

i almost let you hurt me
hurt me

i wonder if she'd like to know
i almost let you
hurt me
hurt me

i thought about letting you
i could've done it

i told you i would
i thought about letting you

i disappeared just in time
i fell in love with my current partner when i told him about this guy and he said "well he was a bad person"
sylvia Jan 13
i've swallowed too much of you to go back now.
i wish i could swallow you whole.

i want to take you down my throat.
through my mouth, so you'll see the
sores and the crooked teeth.

swish you around my head.
so you'll have to hear every
voice and echo and
scream and whisper.

all the rotten thoughts
of you, decayed and
maggot-infested evocations
of men who hurt me
and a girl who killed me.

i'll swallow you and
force you down.
chase you with
water or acid if i have to.

i've swallowed so much of you.
you're inside me.
you've swallowed me whole.
you're a part of my being at this point.

you've thrusted yourself
into the back of my throat,
and i lovingly and eagerly
accepted and swallowed you,
every time.

you slid down my throat
and into my stomach.

i swallowed you.
you're in my stomach.
you're mine.

you sat in my stomach,
and grew vines outward
all around.

your vines are wrapped
around my organs,
my muscles,
my blood cells,
my bones.

wrapped tightly,
choking the me
out of me,
consuming me.
sylvia Jan 12
a stolen Hershey's bar
a damaged body in the water
bleeding elbow
bruised arm

a self beating
must be better than silver
fades away sooner
easier to hide

unhealthy inspiration
fear provoked perspiration
is a rhyme childlike?
what does innocence feel like?

can't write poetry
can't turn tragedy
into beauty
wishing to be art
Blanca Dec 2020
I fell for you the moment we met,
But not all at once.
It was a slow descent,
More of a seeping
Into somewhere I had not been before.
Would it be sweet and warm?
Would it be tranquil and still?
Or would it chew me up, spit me out,
Leave me drowned and alone?

And I kept falling.
And you dragged me down by my hair.
A flirty text tugged me down like a brick,
Towards some unknown damnation.
A grab of the thigh sent me spinning,
Over and over and over for weeks.

Then I landed.
Without grace and grazing my skin.
I landed in a place called Truth.
It was filled with a single light,
Surrounded by shadows that whispered
that you would never love me back.
And the whispers broke my bones,
They drew blood from my nose.
I screamed.

But then I began to float,
Carried by a warm wind.
A wind who called herself Revelation.
She told me to rise up
And to realise that you were still here
Here for me.
And that even if it's not in the way I wanted,
It's more than I could ever ask for.

Now, basked in the light of Friendship,
My bones mend, my nose stops bleeding.
And I can start healing.
A very impromptu poem about me healing after my straight friend tells me my feelings can never be reciprocated, and me realising having him as a friend means more than anything else. I know this isn't my best, haven't written in a while and just needed to vent tbh.
Chloe Oct 2020
There are days when being alive feels so good.
For a while it was what I looked forward to.
Every time I had a bad day, a bad week, a bad month, I would tell myself that one day I’m going to wake up and love life again.
I’m afraid it’s been a long time since I’ve felt that way.
Living for other people is exhausting.
Why would I stay alive to let other people love me
When I can’t even love myself?
No need to be concerned.
Sometimes
You make me want to scream
(You make me late for everything)
Out loud
(Too proud)
Like a beast howling with rage and uncultivated fear
(Just the same **** arguments year after year)
You make me ashamed to want attention
(You argue with anything I mention)
That isnt fought for or coerced
(Plans made with you are cursed)
And I just want to make you see
(All the things that you do to me)
That things could be different
(You never take things as they're meant)
Better or worse
(You cut me down first)
And I could still be here in a couple of years
(You dont understand the depth of my tears)
Or maybe not
(You forget what you forgot?)
And I love you
(There's nothing more true)
But loving you hurts
(And sometimes you're just a ****)
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