Malak S 6d
Dear Malak
Hi
This is a bit unsettling since the last time I saw you, was in the bathroom mirror; hair pulled up into a ponytail and you had a spark in your eye diminishing by the second.
I wanted to ask you what it felt like to lose; life, sense, sight.
I think you’ve lost a lot and yet you are still a wanderer unaware of the chaos that looms before you.
Explain to me the wounds that mark your skin and tell me about all the excuses you’ve placed for those who’ve abused you one way or another; may it be abusing it directly - strategically placing their knife through your spinal cord -  or taking you for granted since you oozed forgiveness until you walked away and thought the only way out, was through solitary.
You pushed away. You pushed away your worries and the blame, the hurt and ache, you pushed away the closest to you because it was easier to cave in than allow them to see the weakness that has made a home within your body, and that may not be a mistake but I begged you to knock on doors whenever you felt like losing yourself in a world or two or a universe and another.
I wanted you to bloom and not decay.
I wanted to to be and not
Explain to me how easy it is for the thoughts to create a beast that eats your insides and leaves your skin, a costume to be worn by the shadows that loom in you.
Tell me how your sadness sways with you
Tell me how you can’t find peace when peace surrounds you and how you latch on to the anger when it’s devoid of everything around you.
Help me understand the issues that pile up one after the other
I know it’s not easy explaining but I don’t mind if you wrote it in Morse code or painted it onto a blank canvas.
But talk to me.
Help me understand your wants and needs because it’s become harder voicing out your worries when all you hear is noise.
This has become as hard as yelling out for help as you hang off the edge of a cliff and I’m so afraid that at any moment you just might let go.
How are you?
I hope you’re doing fine.
I hope the thoughts ease up and your worries evaporate like rain
I hope the pain that grips your stomach ceases to exist because seeing you lose your appetite in anything that keeps you alive has caught my attention, and I don’t think happiness emerges from a place where all there is,
Is a lost girl wandering through an empty forest, and all she’s waiting for, is a monster ready to rip her to shreds.
This poem is directed to myself. The way that it’s different than other letters directed at myself is that this talks to me directly using my name. There’s a connection and there are intimate feelings I am trying to get across. It hurts to read this but I’m proud
If, every day, I could write
But a handful of words,
Honestly and impulsively;
I would have a map
Etched and scrawled
Across the years in ink-
Black as tarmac, blue as rivers, red as blood.
A map for when I am old,
To trace back the roads I have travelled.
To give me a glimpse
Of the places I cannot revisit,
Of all these moments lost in time.
E McNamara Mar 18
My mind the ocean
Waves crashing, always changing.
Ships sinking,
Sitting on the ocean floor, forgotten.
Ships thriving,
Discovering new land, flourishing.
Ships sculpted,
Brand new, setting out to sea-
Freshly crafted.
The ships like my sailing thoughts,
Wandering.
Expanding.
Forgotten.
My thoughts are always sailing.
Nazanin Mar 11
Wandering in a land

Of darkness and sand

Sinking any moment

With a broken watch in my hand

At the middle of this circle

My circle of despair

Far away from home

From which i was banned

There which is no angle

To find some comfort 

You shall not stand, as this world is damned

Walls always expose you

To the darkness so mute

That steals your sanity

And leaves you all scammed

This never ending maze

What tricks has it planned

For this wandering child

Lost in wonderland?
Im so close to edge that even slightest wind can cause me falling
Saint Audrey Mar 2
The tension is rising slowly, as the blood pools beneath fingernails
I can hear the ropes start snapping, brittle as a leaf
The bells begin tolling, the vultures swirl amid the frigid air
Of the televised devastation of the week

I hide my true intentions, I do
Somewhat well, if I must then
Admit to something,
I didn't really care too

Stop me if you've heard this one before
Or heard it better, somewhere else
---------------------------------------------------
Sending money through the wire
Never ending crimson flow

Past the thoughts of victims
Intuition caught in undertow

Masqurades with musket powder, kegs
And lampshades tinted red

Festering my own psychotic
Philanthropic need for death

Sending money through a wire
Rising slowly through the smoke

Laughter bursting through the cracks
Of somebody's final joke

Celebrations, conversation
Windowpains and slitting throats

Powers set to loosen grips
But destitute, watch me still choke

I think its time we could talk about the ending
Open the intent that we're pretending
Its something to be said aloud
Lost within the frigid clouds above

Oceans slowly forming up above
torrents under spoken like a flood

Oceans slowly forming up above
The mainland
Weightless, he was
Bound to none –
A wispy, wandering
Wind

He danced upon his days
Like waves,
Without a ripple
In the end…

‘Cause times when he
Would come too close –
Feet nearly touching
Ground

He’d hide away
Into his dream
And scream
Without a sound
---
Weightless, he was
Bound to none –
A wispy, wandering
Wind

He felt no wonder
About his life;
Nothing felt
Magnificent…

‘Cause nothing could
Command his heart
Or pull him down
To stand

So ‘ever he just
Drifted there
In fog and
Foreign land
---
Weightless, he was
Bound to none –
A wispy, wandering
Wind

He settled for a
Fairytale, but
Woke up feeling
Grim…

‘Cause deep down in
The darkest depths –
An abyss of Truth
Repressed

He knew that there was More
Than this:
The ever-expanding
Nothingness
---
But…weightless, he was
Bound to none –
A wispy, wandering
Wind.
John D Feb 8
My life essence
Trapped inside of my soul
Surrounded by distant lands
Filled with emptiness and loneliness
My trapped soul wanders
Looking for a purpose
Inside of a desolate stricken world
Alicia Allen Feb 7
Something hurts.
A deeply painful hurt that seems to resonate from a place as deep as it is painful.
As brutal as the crushing pressure building from within lungs trapped under tons of water . Salted water drawn from earths own seas.
Something hurts
and it hurts something fierce, now there's water in my soul and an ancient ache in my bones.
Wandering under the pressure of it in a dark chasm.
Something hurts and it is not found of this earth. Its ache as foreign as distant lands.
Something, something hurts.
It makes a body weary and fatigued
Hard pressed not carry on  longer.
No heavier sigh has be found as a burdened one.
Something hurts and it tells me carry on no more. Let it be, let it rest, let it go
So let me be,  let I will this thing that hurts.

Something, something hurts and I will it not to hurt anymore.
Getting lost in your eyes is, I am sure,
Much like being rescued from Tempest waters
With the Blue Moon dappled on my back.

What you see wonders with, I often find myself drowning in
But I never suffocate, no,
And I never die;
I just lose my breathe for a moment
Before you bring me to life.

I would very much like to meet the Sirens in your mind and appease each she through acquaintance;
I will jump in at the deep end with no questions asked-
Alas, I am not worthy to drink nor feel
The Aqua of your embrace,
Instead I cloud my face
And speak the lines that Prufrock spake:
'I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.'

I am undeserving of the swim within your sweet, salt water,
It would seem.
Another love poem
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