Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Savva Emanon May 14
Tender thread that binds the heart so tight,
Yet loosens in the quiet of the night.
A trembling breath, a raw, unguarded gaze,
Where shadows dance in vulnerability's haze.

To feel exposed, as if the world lays bare
The fragile chords of all you hold with care.
No armour shields, no walls to hide behind,
Just fleeting whispers of a soul confined.

Yet, in this trembling state of soft despair,
A beauty blooms, unmatched, beyond compare.
For vulnerability, a sacred art,
Is where the truth resides within the heart.

It is the crack that lets the light seep in,
A gentle call to shed the faceless skin.
To stand unmasked, though shaken to the core,
And offer up the wounds that we deplore.

The strength it takes to let the world behold,
The fragile lines within your story told.
Is bravery in its most tender form,
A quiet storm within the raging storm.

For when the tears fall freely, unrestrained,
And fears no longer fight to be contained.
A space is carved where healing dares to grow,
A fertile ground where love begins to flow.

Oh, vulnerability, thy paradox,
A fragile strength that no chain ever locks.
To feel so open is to feel alive,
For in that softness, spirits learn to thrive.

So fear not, heart, the moments you feel weak,
For in that trembling lies the truth you seek.
Let courage rise through cracks and shadows deep,
And in your openness, your soul shall leap.
Copyright 2025 Savva Emanon ©
The Poets Loft is my new YouTube Channel.
https://www.youtube.com/@PoetsLoft
Yusuf May 10
They see it not.
Their eyes open to me,
yet their heart remains closed.

My mind a web of ideas,
my heart a compass.

Warps of mercy and construction,
wefts of brutality and destruction,
how to share this tapestry?

Words?
Wounds?
No methods appear.
Am I to be silent?
What to say?
Grey May 4
When it comes to the world,
I'm a preterm baby—
I know nothing
of tales, adventures,
treachery, or wisdom.

I watch
with hooded, glazed eyes
that only understand
fragments—
splinters
of ideas.

So when I got a glimpse,
it wasn’t something
a cradle-bound soul
could ever decipher.

It's the justification of just—
It’s never just a papercut.
And it wouldn’t be.
It’s never I’m fine.
And it wouldn’t be.

My baby self
is allowed to throw a fit.
I think
every other version
should too.

But I’m only a preterm.
What do I know?
ab ja na Apr 18
some days i mourn the death of stars,
some days i forget to mourn the dreams i massacred
both days i tell you nothing about it

somedays i mourn the death of stars,
some days i forget to mourn the dreams i massacred

both days i know i can tell no one anything about it
and i didn’t, but it seems like the end

so what if i erupted out all my infections.
i don't know, if i could delete myself, man how many times would i have done it already
Kat M Apr 1
Not even here is Knowledge a thing of intuition
But the procedure followed key by key
Into the river and out of the drain
Like a lamprey seething on a deer

Should we wake her,
Or do the defiler's whispers eat at your ear
Do the wallops within you complete something
You didn't know needed to be found

A golfer eats a melon and yearns for forgiveness
As she knows, it’s not the smaller
Unforgiving swallowtail pictured
Am I what you imagined

When you wished upon a star
Never to be seen again but on the pages of
Typing writers blocking my every thought
As mysteries unravel me
Feedback Welcome!
kn Mar 28
I came with a heart too heavy to hold,
Words trembling, half-formed, quiet and bold.
All I asked was, stay with me here,
Not to fix, not to judge—just be near.

I didn’t need answers wrapped up in bows,
Just silence, warmth, the kind that knows
How to hold pain without turning away,
To let the storm speak, not chase it away.

But you turned from the weight in my voice,
Raised walls where I asked for a choice—
To open, or not, on my fragile time,
To bleed in peace, not forced to rhyme.

Now we’re both tangled in words that cut,
Doors slammed by the ache of a heart left shut.
But I never meant for a war to start…
I just needed someone to see my heart.
Immortality Mar 16
Your fire so bright,
it takes me in.
Your warmth so tender,
it burns me within.

Heard many warnings,
still I fall.
And I’d fall again,
no regrets.

For this is where I belong.
what the 'moth' said to the 'fire flames' when it asked not to fall.
I know you, Moon
Shining pieces of light
that are not your own.

As beautiful as you are,
as full as you look,
there are pieces of yourself
that you hide in the dark
the empty patches
left by those who took
but never gave.

If I could, I'd
climb
up
next to you
and offer you a
piece
of myself,
to make you feel whole.

I, too, know
what it's like
to
hide
pieces
of
yourself.

At least with you,
that piece will be called beautiful,
and no one will know the difference
except for you and me.
I know you, Moon
Mahta May 15
This morning, I woke up at 4 a.m., sweating. I’d had a bad dream. I was in a car, speeding downhill, completely out of control. It was one of those steep, winding roads that twists sharply as it descends, each turn pulling me further into chaos. I couldn’t stop it. I think the dream reflects how I’ve been feeling about the world lately—like everything is spiraling out of control.
The world feels mad. It’s as if everything that once brought me peace and calm is on the verge of being wiped away. They don’t like people like me—fluid, free spirits. I don’t understand why it’s so hard for some to accept that there’s a world beyond what they know, just as I can understand their world. What’s so threatening about something different?
I feel fragile, vulnerable. I’m overwhelmed by what I hear every day—the noise, the chaos, the uncertainty. Am I overreacting, or am I sensing the darkness that’s about to unfold?
Avici Jan 24
In the dim corners of an archaic repository
Guarded by shadows and subdued mystery
A nerve cracking tale of emotional misery
A chronicle of unspoken, untold history

The brutal lash of a leather belt
The screams, the echoes, the relentless assaults felt
The horrifying scars, the unbearable welt
Withers my soul, seeing a mother being forcibly knelt

The haunting cries beneath the moon’s cold gaze
A child’s fragile heart, encountering frightened days
The tormenting intuition, the intolerable helplessness
Depicting this insensitive world, how time and tide frays

The hypocrite neighbours with malicious intention
Their hollow candour, veiling a double faced complexion
The depraved society, lost in its superficial attention
The child, gasping for emotional care on the ventilators of affection

The backbiting relatives, feeding on unbidden hospitality
Once in a blue moon, do they emerge in adverse practicality
The mother crying her heart out, even in such criticality
Traumatised, by the unforgivingness of such harsh reality

The translucent mask, leading to intensifying mistreat
Ignorance, structuring a highway of unimaginable deceit
Betrayal, the shift, from friendship to cheat
Mental burnout, draining the child to inevitable defeat

Tribulation getting culminated with every dart
Still the mother, protecting her child with a brave heart
Believing that someday, there will be a cheerful start
Today, that kid stands in front of you, portraying this beautiful art
Next page