Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Lorenzo Neltje Apr 2018
Spend the afternoon
Listening to the same songs
Coz you're feeling the way you are
And you can't seem to change yourself
Spend the afternoon
Listening to the same songs
And you find yourself thinking about
Those who think
You owe them your secrets
Those who think
You owe them your friendship
Listening to the same songs
Till you find yourself thinking about
Where they'll be in 10 years
Till you find yourself thinking about
Everything you never said to them
All the **** they threw in your face
And how badly you wanna throw it back
But that requires talking to them
So you shut up
Listening to the same songs
Till you've memorised the words,
"Does it cross your mind to be slightly sorry?"
And picture yourself screaming it
Screaming it to them
Like you owe them your secrets
Like you owe them a world
Why?
Age-old mistakes,
Before you knew that about him
Age-old mistakes
Before you knew it'd throw your life away
Before you knew he hated
"People like you"
But he doesn't know it yet,
He doesn't know it yet so
You find yourself thinking about
What you'd say
And how you'd say it
Maybe think of a song and dance
Maybe end it with a slap in the face
Maybe write him another ******* poem
When hell knows that was your biggest mistake
The first ******* time
And now you look at his face and think
HOW
How in the name of Hell
How in the name of every diety,
In or out of existance, could you
Befriend someone
Like that?

And you find yourself crashing
And burning
Like all of them did
And you think,
am I really better than them?
And sweetheart, then you pick yourself up
And you spend the afternoon
Listening to the same songs
Coz you're feeling the way you are
And the answer is
They got nothing on you
Use your anger,
Put yourself back together
However the hell you can
And keep going
Coz any bridges you burn on the way
You didn't need them
It killed you to keep the stupid things
Up for so **** long
And yeah, you can swear on
Everything you love
And hate
That the next time he shows his face
You'll beat it into the ground
Or write a song and ******* dance
When you know all you need to say
Is tell him how much he must hate you.
After all, look at what you are.
He hates people like you,
Right?
Lee Matvey Apr 2018
There was no plan.

It just happened.

All at once,
Paroxysms of emotion,
Violent,
Uncontrollable emotion.

You never crossed my mind,
Nobody did,
Until it was too late.

Lying in the cool bath water,
Self-medicating,
I told myself that it wouldn’t be long.

The voices on the other side of the door,
Assured me that everything would be the same,
Whether I lived or died.

Then,
Against my will,
My stomach flipped,
And the emotions that I swallowed,
Ended up on the floor.

I gave up,
Cleaned up,
And passed out.
On January 13th of this year, I tried to **** myself.
Journal entry #2

Curled up on the bathroom floor.
I stare down at my phone, so long, that my eyes glaze over.
Surprised I remembered all the songs that use to set my soul on fire.
Music was always my second love, and then there was you.

Already tipsy, I take a long swig from my bottle of jack and say to myself, (Rip it, its just like a bandaid just do it.)

I hit shuffle and the first song that plays is...
(H.O.L.Y. by Florida Georgia Line)

The pain that washed over me was excruciating. It made every hair on my body stand and shiver. Tears fell from my eyes as my mind brought me right back to that time, and that place, in that car, as I brought you to our home and you sang that song to me.

I remember thanking God in this moment.
I finally had you back. I remember thinking how lucky I was... Blessed.
Thinking we conquered it all.
Feeling like I had died and gone to heaven and there you were.

I felt short of breath, I felt like I was suffocating. Because I  never knew such a happiness existed...never wanting someone so much in your life..

Try to see this through my eyes.
Life hasent always been good to me.
I try to see the good in life.
But good things in life are hard to find.
But then, in walks a man I thought was sent from heaven.
Maybe, it was finally my time to be happy?

God is that you?

Too blind to see it at the time, but God was saying No the entire time.

I was blown away, what could I say?
It all seemed to make sense at the time.
Stupid me, thinking he loved me, as much as I loved him.
Shanath Mar 2018
We used to wake with the rising sun,
Before the sky could heat up enough
To burn us with her flames.
We would stay up long after the sun died
Every night, long into the stars' play
But we were always busy looking at each other.
The moon was and has to be jealous
Of us,
We took the time we gave to her
To give to each.

Then there were the other dolls
That swung out the door.
You used to be captivated by the sea
And stars,
But I broke your trance
And with your eyes on the ground
You drifted like the smoke from cigarettes.

You were clean before,
Never had a drink,
Never smoked, never catcalled,
For the moon had you,
You were stuck in dreams
But I broke your chains
And had you freed.

Now you use me as a match
To light up your darkness,
To fulfil your hunger,
Your midnight smoking ache
On the terrace,
The filthy parking lots.
You don't care that you are burning me
And I like a fool
Crave your fingers on me
As you strike me against the sand.
Again and again
Then discard me.

I never feared being burnt,
The whole world used to hit me
On me
Like stones rubbed together
To spark fire.
I would light up and ignite
Wildfires,
But I never thought
You would bite.

I forgot that all birds in cages
Beg for the sky,
But once freed,
They all come down to litter the streets.
I freed you,
You carried me on your wings,
Made me forget the moon,
The stars.
The fact that I was a planet on my own,
And I tied myself to you
Like I was a lost moon
Surviving on gravity's pull.

You dropped me in a sky-less desert,
The horizon dancing in its own flames.
The sun and the moon collided
And the stars fell like moths
Burnt by desire.
You never did return.

But I was wrong
The world remained intact,
The clouds cried.
It was I
Blinded by the shine of your eyes.
You used to reflect the moon,
The fire of the stars years away.
I am ashes, black char,
On your wings I will be a stain.
So you shook me off
And never returned.

I only wish now
That when I lay well into the noon,
The sky will heat up enough
To evaporate me,
And I will dissolve.

You will feel me in your breath,
In the wind beneath your fake wings,
I will flow into your blood stream,
Block out your lungs,
And you will bleed through your nose,
Cough up black debris of the past.
I hope you will remember me
As the dolls you will collect
With their paper fingers
Falters to revive you.

But I will be deep in your mind,
Corroding your nerves,
Blocking veins and arteries.
And when you ask yourself
What is happening,
You will see my heart that you stole
To save yourself,
Will burst in your own cursed cage
And in your own blood
You will drown.
But God forbid I become caught in your dreams.
I always was a nightmare for men
So I will be no different for you.

Somewhere you did burn me,
I simply took it as a glow.
But you hate ashes
And I have regrets.

But this is the time
When your absence of mind
Lets the match burn your fingers,
And your clothes catch on fire.
But you, unlike the horizon,
Don't dance but wither in pain.

I will seep out through you then
And water the plants.
I will be a garden built
On your ashes.
So many thoughts
Unsaid, unwritten,
I share
And I am afraid
Of thieves,
How can I stay quiet
In this world?
Lizzie Mar 2018
Usually I enjoy talking about my completely
Not worth listening to feelings but
Undoubtedly people have lost interest
Such as a girl who
Used to vent to me like I vented to her but
After I vented too much she had
Left me behind and found new friends.
acrostic poem
sometimes life feels like a cruel joke,
like we're created to just work hard, then die.

sometimes I want to disappear,
just fall off the face of the earth without a trace.

sometimes everything is okay,
the sun feels good and the breeze kisses my skin.

sometimes I want to break down,
cry and scream that  I can't do this any more.

sometimes there is nothing,
because it's easier than actually facing something.
life is overwhelming, and things are hard
Devin Sost Mar 2018
The starving artist
full of passion and hurt
His only possession is the dream
Everyday he wears his dream like a shirt
Meaningless conversations hit nerves
Only he can feel and express into words
Time that could be better spent on plotting
Spent on talk of broken women and gold watches
Watch that time tick daily
Thinking deep praying the people never hate me
The starving artist
Empty stomach and heart
Working on perfecting his craft
Reminiscing about the now distant start
Afraid of failure more than anything
Fearing the day it all falls apart
No backup plan
No such thing as something else
Knowing your only talent
Will either take you down
Or bring you wealth
The starving artist
In such a delicate place
Exhibiting frustration
Touchy conversations on thoughts
Of never making it
You can see the passion
No way of faking it
So many broken nights
Causing you to procrastinate
Trying to get a jump on life
Before it's too late
Lee Matvey Mar 2018
Warm in your arms,
And walking on air.

The clouds formed a path and led me home.

When I got there,
The clouds twisted,
And I was no longer floating,
But falling.

Shouting of the heavy wind,
Red raindrops,
Thundering bass.

Not even music can save me from this storm.
Just venting,,,,
depth deprived Mar 2018
Violent vain vicious vexing
Vent to me it's still so perplexing.
Listening in silence quickly gets draining.
When will you realize
You're not that entertaining.
And honestly I wouldn't even mind,
If you could only take the time
To do the same
Next page