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K Dec 2017
2017 was an alcohol,
that cuts through your throat,
alone or with friends.
But you still drink it, anyway.

2017 was writing my first poem
published for the world
when I thought I’ll stay silent,
words were there. Still.

2017 was the first tattoo
on my body. I loved my skin enough
that I inked & hurt it.
The irony.

2017 was ocean, sandy toes,
and tan lines.
It was the strong waves
and also the calm.

2017 was loving everyone
I love, unconditionally.
Even if I was hurt.
Even without replies.

2017 was going to the gym,
with the mindset of vanity.
Of looking good,
but not feeling good.

2017 was body image issues,
from skinny to thicc thighs,
starvation and stress eat.
It was never contentment.

2017 was cutting my hair short
when I wanted it to be long.
And I regretted it
right after.

2017 was everything except self love.
It was pain, hatred, pride & anxiety
waking me up in the middle of the night
and keeps me up all night.

I wanted to write something
without biterness & hate
but I’m sorry it turned out like this.
2017 was being sorry most of the time.

Sorry for being this way,
and being alive but ungrateful.
Sorry for sticking to my last hope,
that’s all I’ve got.
and I’m sorry, but I’m still fighting.
Emily Feb 2019
Do you ever have those days
When you miss someone
Who you can’t let go?
And, even worse,
You can’t say what’s on your heart.
So, it just breaks
In silence,
Except for vague booking
On social media, i.e.,
Leaving a lame *** clue
That your heart quietly shattered
On the floor.
But, being the unicorn you are,
You fetch your broom,
Bristles made of positive vibes,
To sweep the loving mess
Back under the rug.
You magically summon
A glass heart to hold,
Just strong enough to fill it
With Crown, ginger and biterness.
And you smile again, loosely
At some other sweet soul
Whose hoodie you will use
To wipe the tears that come
Back later that night
In the flood of missing
The one you tried and failed to let go.
Any suggestions for a title?
Katie Rudnicki Nov 2012
Being both the sunshine and the rain;

Holding everything in your hands,

but hindered by the scars on your skin

that not many are able to see.

I see.

(Only because i have them, too.)

Blind by biterness. crippled by forgotten words.

But i still linger to distract for reaction.
Caty Dec 2013
Blissful agony
Beautiful pain

Taking over the soul
Of an innocent life

They may have lived
Instead they stare

Engraved with identity
Lost within a path

Forgotten though time
Pondered daily

A dying glow
A quenching glass

Biterness so sweet
On such a day
Catie Blurr Jun 2010
Blissful agony
Beautiful pain

Taking over the soul
Of an innocent life

They may have lived
Instead they stare

Engraved with identity
Lost within a path

Forgotten though time
Pondered daily

A dying glow
A quenching glass

Biterness so sweet
On such a day
David Watt Jul 2014
Clawing something out of nothing,
To try and fill the cracks.
To hide hide what is missing,
And what I fear will never be intact.

Gambling away shards of Heart,
To try and and claim back parts of humanity.
Every loss pulls me further and further apart,
And deepens the pool of insanity.

Catching up but never in step,
locked out but never alone.
Every ounce of biterness kept,
The keeper of Loniless and Agonies throne.

Then like a thread to retie the pieces,
Her kiss dissapates all distemper.
Ridding my heart of all scarred and tore up creases,
and brings life to life with golden Ember.
Floor Feb 2019
She was a shadow of her own mind
A pitch black hole in the air
When people looked at her the hope that she'd come back would fade away

She was a crack in a perfectly fine mirror
Nobody seemed to notice it at first, but it eventually got annoying to look

She was a papercut in her family's finger
A small stripe of blood and biterness in a beautiful surface that shouldn't be touched

She was broken but all she worried about was how it affected the people around her. And nobody seemed to take a needle to stitch the pieces back together
Ghenwa Jan 2018
I once read somewhere something I relate to very much:

Us depressed children don’t think we csn make it till 18. Some of us do and some of us don’t.

And for us who do, it’s a bit weird because we haven’t planned for what’s to come after that.

And do you have any idea how scary that is?

It’s terribly terrifying.

I recently turned 21 and it is still as terrifying as ever.
Every day we get is another chance, another accomplishment for us.
Every time we get out of bed a rush of pride goes through our veins.

It’s hard to go on, but I promised to hold on
and I am
I hold on because that’s the strength
Giving up is not an option

But my god is it hard!
To feel nothing at all and pretend to taste the tenderness and biterness of life
To eat because you have to
To go out trying to snap out of it
To try and find passion in what you do and what you love
And mostly try to fall in love
Because you don’t really know how anymore

But some of us meet someone who will hold them in the middle of the night
and ignite something that was no longer there
As if in the fraction of a second
Someone found an on switch to your feelings
and everything started to rush in again

and it feels weird, because you don’t really know how feelings work anymore
but you try
and that’s the most important part
Druzzayne Rika Jun 2023
There is a overwhelming need of sweetener into my life,
I keep drowning inside biterness of all the shoved feelings
I've pushed down.
Floor Mar 2019
Gun
I let my body be the gun
Shooting myself with silver bullets
Pulling the trigger with pleasure and joy
I find myself on the ground with thoughts keeping me down
and silence leaking out of me
I smell blood and metal
It slips away like time and day 
All what's left is biterness
And for a splitsecond I felt the pain
That one thing I was seeking for
Now I lay here still and dead
The numbness took the best of me

— The End —