Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mateah Dec 2019
A love that learns to see
The individual
Is a love that sees the whole
Not their residuals
LC Nov 2019
on some days
I'm a piece of sandpaper -
rubbed and rubbed
until I'm raw and stinging,
until there's almost nothing left.

but there's a little corner
that doesn't sting,
that renews my hope,
that heals every part of me
until I'm whole again.
Mandi Wolfe Nov 2019
Sleepy Sounds-
cacophony of the
shared studio apartment
An island of misfit
toys
Some straight from
the factory with
missing parts
Some with
limbs lost over
time
All wandered/fled/abandoned
here
neglected/broken/discarded
Five sets of
eyes
finally closed to
imperfection/rejection/expectation
All found now
in this place
Whole
Phi Kenzie Nov 2019
I'm not close enough
to you

This distance
is ******

We've been apart
two long
free to four or thrive

I wither with no connection
hating to hide in tense

and you keep guesses in repression

don't delve
into this lifetime
alone
There's a feeling of falling apart, and there's a want to connect. Put the two together.
He breaks my heart
And peels my eyes
Open to the world,
No, I’m not a broken girl.

He’s the reminder
That my mask can be removed;
I don’t have to hide,
In him, I confide.

Emotional chaos
Disguised as playing victim.
He called out my delusion,
It was no intrusion.

He softens my feelings
But hardens my spine;
He nurtures me to health
And teaches me of my wealth.

Yes he breaks my heart,
He tears it wide open
So that the rivers may flow again.
He makes me feel whole again.
Owen Cafe Sep 2019
When I was young, I could fly.
From thought to wish to dream to the sky.
When I was becoming, I could think.
I thought I'd thought that they were thinking,
that I was simply thoughtless.
When I was discovering, I could feel.
I could feel the feelings of earth of mind of soul,
those feelings connected though fingertips and goosebumps.
When I fell, I couldn't see.
I could not see that they could see that I was blind,
the view is up when you are down.
When I was climbing, I grew strong.
Could see the bumps in the road, the connections,
the grips, the traps, the full scale of the map.

Then I saw it. Not far now.
Just another corner, my branches are full of colour and life.
I can see the flowers ready to bloom.

Spring is coming, and I am too.
Reflective appreciation of realizing the future.
Jay Sep 2019
Which cloth am I cut from?
In a menagerie of material
From the crude to the formal
It's frustrating
Where do I belong?
Am I him or her,
Or my very own?
i aint tryna bug ya babe
Michael A Duff Sep 2019
she is not a thing, she is her and I am me. Shedding things and growing me she was discovered. She was not lost but she certainly was not found. twisting turning life through other people's eyes we see ourselves. she is not a thing or a drug, but I want her I need to be with her have her with me together we can be. be happy, be hopeful, be nothing but together, six it would be, but four mostly. turns and twists, off and on, up and down. when I don't see her or hear her my puzzle misses a piece, incomplete
What you think can heal you or make you whole can make you hole.. missing a peice maybe never to be found
Next page