Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I am sailing on
a sea of huge regret
still smiling
but nevertheless
navigating
badly
a sea
of huge regret.
 Apr 29 Aishu
S
Time Capsule
 Apr 29 Aishu
S
I keep trying to connect to my younger self-
I’ve been reading old journals,
listening to old Ed Sheeran albums-
wondering, “Did I really love this magenta color so much”?

Attempting to feel the way that she did.
Feeling her excitement-
her joy-
her passions.

I have been rediscovering that my past self and I have been through many things. Things that I don’t think about because they are too hard to think about, or simply things that I have forced myself to forget about- like putting my memories on paper and then burning them in a fire.

She was a really sad person.
She struggled.
She was anxious.
She was depressed.
She hated herself.
She had moments of unwavering positivity but there was so much self doubt.

She still is a really sad person.
She still struggles.
She is anxious.
She is depressed.
She hates herself, sadly so.
She still has moments of unwavering positivity but there is still so much self doubt.

I guess some parts of us never change, despite us wanting them too.
Trying to come back to my comfort space of writing, I don’t know if anyone even follows me anymore, but this is for me
 Apr 29 Aishu
Isla
not a poet
 Apr 29 Aishu
Isla
i am not a poet,

nor am i a poem.

i am not a writer,

nor a book.

i am not a painter,

nor a painting.

i am not a sculptor,

nor a sculpture,

i  am not the artist,

nor the muse.

i am an idea,

that exists

only

in your imagination
I wrote this on a total whim, I quite like it.
 Apr 24 Aishu
Mary Huxley
Some days, I smile and I don’t know why,
Other days, I sit and just let time slide by.
Coffee gets cold, texts go unread,
Thoughts spinning circles inside my head.

Some days, I win little fights with my doubt,
Other days, I barely crawl out.
But I breathe, I try, I take one more stride
And that, for today, is enough on my side.
 Apr 24 Aishu
Rain
Too much
 Apr 24 Aishu
Rain
Life feels too heavy.
Too many worries.
Too many pressures.
Too many responsibilities.
Too many hardships.
Pain.
Despair.
Hope turns to despair.
Happiness turns to numbness.
Calmness turns to pain.

Too fast.
So bleed.
Bleed.
Bleed.
Till everything is silent.
But it’s not silent.
It’s not working.
Making me panic.
Why isn’t it working?
This strange soul calls to mine,
Alluring, fascinating, vexing.
This strange pull, as a rapid wind,
Somehow pushing, still pulling, and taxing.

Strange spirit speaks a foreign tongue.
I speak with no tongue at all.
I would give my soul, my heart, a lung
To stop its decay. Here leaves in fall.

Strange spirit presses soft, then firm.
My spirit falters often.
Strange spirit ever lives and learns,
Cradle, sky, to coffin.
A feeling of something walking on the wind. Maybe there’s something calling out. It fades, and flounders. It buds, and builds. It overwhelms and cannot leave. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was me.
 Apr 18 Aishu
Hiba Mubashir
Mystic land beyond the sea
Far away, but still I can see
Rise of screams and calamity
And I see no peace in their destiny

Mystic land beyond the sea
Not being what it meant to be

Do you know what I mean?
I say to you haven't you seen?

What's rising beyond the sea, haven't you seen?
Do you know what I mean?
Just listen, their cries
Which resound the skies

Mystic land beyond the sea
Harshly suffering away from you and me
Then how can we,
Live lively when they're suffering desperately?


By Hiba Mubashir
When artists
grow reflective
their impact
is stalled

All direction
is hijacked
momentum
recalled

Looking back
through their psyche
a tunneler’s
view

As horizon’s
lie waiting
with visions
— anew

(Dreamsleep: April, 2025)
Next page