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Tee Morris Mar 10
trigger warning?

I've always had a missing piece of my heart
Me and you were meant to meet
We've never been far apart
  
Temptation has been kicking in and I lied
Despite that, Today I tried to give up the blade
But I took it and now I hide

You've tried to keep me strong
But I'm too weak
I'm too blinded by temptation's song
another for my boyfriend...enjoy x
Tyler Atherton Aug 2018
Tell me,
How many sips does it take,
How many puffs does it take,
How many pills does it take,
How many cuts does it take,
How many attempts does it take,
To feel the way I do?
To hurt the way i do?
To be the way i am?



© Copyright Tyler Atherton
CK Baker Feb 2017
it falls through the glow of the wintery trees
building a cover under the breeze
luminous lights sparkle and hatch
snow pack high on the briar patch

pine cones fall from majestic fir
squirrel and robin rustle and stir
sitka spruce at tunnel bluffs
ravens roost on cedar rough

dusted peaks at hurley pass
snowline cuts the avalanche
fox and lynx are on the prowl
hollow eyes from spotted owl

cool winds up the valley trail
whirling snow from diamond vale
chilling flakes in candle hands
moonlight shines across the land

northern lights in krypton green
the sounds of verve are bitter sweet
curtains hang on a cold dark sky
counting stars, a lullaby
I came upon a dandelion  
An ordinary, common ****.
Most people don't look twice
Unless it infected their gardens.
Then it is uprooted, stem and head.
Thrown away and then forgotten.

But that **** meant something different to me

It was sunshine and laughter
Bouquets made of thistle and lavender
Bunched together and given to my mother
It was rolled up jeans
That perfect summer breeze
Cuts and bruises on my knees

It was my childhood

Memories that I can't quite grasp
But what I can remember is the bright yellow,
Stark against the grass
izzn Sep 1
I won't be sinking this time
I'll stay afloat
I can't give up just yet
I can't lose hope

I have a lot I need to catch up
I must open my eyes
Who cares if this ****,
I'll still stay the night

It's a thousand cuts
but I trust it'll be alright,
Even though it hurts,
I would be just fine
I'll try again tomorrow
Nat Lipstadt Aug 2018
<>
The Instigation:
Edmund  Black, commenting on “weary weighted,”

I agree with Kim; This is poetry at its best :)“

<•>

both of you shush!

there is no “better” in poetry

mine yours theirs, alive or not,

just gasps tears and blood
whimsical smiles and isles
cuts and burns of pained revelations,
hidden in fog,
that words try to delete away,
through the shrouded mists of
human tissues,
unconstrained by the
bounded shape
of the human cell,
our first, our own
self-imposed jail

tissue, too,
baby soft, or,
purple beating majestic bruised blotches
by those weaklings whose
kindness never
fully developed;  
or old man mine whose
skin cells erodes, so poems and light
weary weighted, lightly flake off
for your “betterment”
mostly tho for worse

good humans all await,
in patientce lightly hidden,
residents of dark sunspots
in the glaring existence exposer
of the unlit lighthouse whose time will come

they get it

how we get there unimportant

get there

GET THERE

get there
that is the poetic
mission critical

no path best or style preferred-
no compare just, but,
any path that
lifts and elevates,
to the commonplace


the common place

where all costarred, universal,
where common is the temple mount
of highest praise, holy smoke rising,

a place that
that discloses and closes,
is scribed/described honestly as
a connective,
which is the simplest
successive

call my poems,
blessedly common!

that an honorable,
so gladly accepted
and
so much more meaning-full
than merely best or better



for that,
I’d gladly weep,
for no praise
ever been
bettered





8/2/18 406pm
on the jitney to my isle
the instigation: Edmund black › “weary weighted, I agree with Kim .... This is poetry at its best :)“
Ashley Chapman Aug 2018
These days have ebbed
as Love's swell was checked:
the waters in some places
- all but dammed!

But now at last
I sense the rising tide
and thank Temese
for the current's turn;
now following that great writhing snake
to where its pulsing head will rake;
over the mucky soiled watery beds
of Woolwich
Greenwich
Limehouse
- and under -
Tower Bridge

     To that great gloating sight
                A crown of a billion lights
     Blazing day and night:
                And somewhere within
     In the slick oily warmth
                Our flood tides mesh,
     As over each other we wash.

Hard thrusts
wicked deep cuts
given and received
are recorded in that great mirror smoked!
where with a tug and a shove
on the banks
in the streets
through the loopy twists
everything prospers in the glow
as the decades decaying flow;
each ***** bud
red with new blood
one after t'other
flowers
before their purple petals scatter.

Let's on the luck o' the dice
(you 'n' me!)
ride out
on the flotsam and jetsom
that has carried us this far
and as pleases
merge.
London, a city with a rhythm, the Thames, which I sailed upon one Saturday morning - not a soul at this end of this magestic river, this city, in which I have lived for forty years...And love - a wonderful woman - and how I desire us to pull at each other as tides do, tugging at each other, two flows running over reeds and muddy shelves searching for each other in the cool green depth.
**** men burning their bay leaves
in pots of static gardens
underneath all this cement
your past is looking at you indecently
so change the words around you
you can shift their meaning
its all a game and no-one's winning
your tired emotions accent your poetry
umbrellas are scars that carry symphonies in their hearts
you held my hand as we welcomed god back into our skylines
her face is as familiar as the stars
we originated from
with ulcers open in quiet hurting
your youth are wordless and distrustful of angst ridden authority
in unsuspecting situations love’s vacation is ending
her wedding gown got quite *****
since she literally spent her entire honeymoon
wandering idly into banks of muddy water
humanity is worthy of justice and sweaty romance
i breathe your flesh into my bottle
and we take boundless walks upon the clouds
that straddle mountains, graveyards and cemeteries
fresh from wading in the rice fields
i peeled you a ripe banana
under pressure your sweater came off
and revealed a perfect metric for us to emulate
your eye sockets are two umbilical chords
and your voice is a curved sword that cuts through fear
like the moon slices through the sky
i have held all of this inside for far too long
and now it comes shattering forth
spilling itself over every page
every letter an escapade almost as long
as an Eskimo's pilgrimage to safety
Micheal Jan 2
You, you’re just a piece of paper in my pocket.
That’s all right?
No, you’re much more than that.
I love you.

I love you because you put clothes on my back.
I love you because you give me a shelter from the elements.
I love you because you put food on my family’s table.
Despite all you do for me, I still hate you.

I hate you because of the bloodshed you’ve caused.
I hate you because of the souls you’ve corrupted.
I hate you because people will do anything for you.
I hate you because I can’t live without you.

So, you aren’t just a piece of paper in my pocket.
You’re a life-saving blessing yet an unstoppable destructive curse.
Whoever would’ve imagined paper cuts so deep?
Brandon Amberger May 2016
The Road to redemption
Is a daunting path
It’s an uphill battle
That is slippery and steep
It goes against the current
In the frigid rough rapids
With rays of blistering sun
A jagged wall of obsidian
And a sea of sand
There are no shortcuts
Only cuts, scrapes and bruises
What you did in the past will never be forgotten
But what you are remembered for will have changed.
Dominique Aug 2018
I've learned to trace
The curves of your name
Through marks on my skin that were all too straight
And I've rubbed them raw-

Scarlet, aching, throbbing,
Irritated because of how many times I've dug my nails
Into the memory of you carved into my shoulder,
Or my wrist, thigh, hip...

The list goes on, and so do you,
Even when the licks of fire turn tamer, whiter, faded
With time that tries to give me relief but makes me
PANIC
Instead,
Because at least when it's all fresh,
I can hear your voice in my ear
And the cut of your jib is outlined by the cut on my... well, anything.

I want your fingers wrapped around my waist
But in my mind's clouded eye you pull away
Every time, and all I feel is rain drops on amber skin, and the blade grips ever tighter.

Normal girls who cry at night and not at sunset
Have stretch marks guiding their insecurity,
But I bet you've never been to a lido with your parents
After getting a new tattoo of a bitter I'll-never-know's name imprinted on your arm...

And if you have, well, you'll never tell me
Because even though I trace you every time I'm reminded of your seaside green glass eyes
I haven't looked the past in the face

Since the last time you said you'd see me soon.
Trigger Warning
kell Aug 2018
Every person sees from a different angle
Every event leading up to how they perceive how they think and there endless thoughts
What they love and what they do not how they see themselves or just all the flaws
who they are is deeper than a
conversation or what you see,  
They're so aware of something that's not there
So their cuts never close they always bleed
And who they are comes to surface someone they never thought they would be
It's funny, right when you let go
The more you want to breathe
So misunderstood an addiction to acceptance can never be relieved
No one understands anyone
It's just how it is
And how it will forever be
Inspired by a friend

luke
stopdoopy Jul 2018
(In a vacant church Little Girl and Big Man sit on a parish
a few feet apart, in between them lies a book titled"My Feelings".)

(The curtain opens. Little Girl sits staring at Big Man. Big Man gets up and goes to the statue of himself in front of them for a closer look.)

Big Man: Will talking in person really make a difference?

Little Girl: I like to think it does.

Big Man:  (turns to look at her incredulously.) What wishful thinking, you're so naïve.

(Little Girl opens her book and starts to read aloud.)

(Big Man cuts her off with a noise every time she starts to say something until she falls silent.)

Big Man: Just as I thought, it doesn't change anything.

Little Girl: But you don't-

Big Man: (cuts her off again.) You just can't let things go, that's your problem. I told you I didn't want to do this, yet you dragged me out here. It didn't accomplish anything!

Little Girl: That's because you don't even want to listen or try to talk, you just want to yell and blame me!

Big Man: That's enough, this conversation is over. (Walks off stage right.)

(Little Girl screams in anger and throws "My Feelings" at the Big Man Statue.)

(The Curtain closes.)
I wanted to try something a little different! I've never written stage directions or a play before but I thought this would be a nice change. I didn't really convey the raw anger or passion, nor was it the scene what I originally wanted but maybe it's a step in the right direction. Trying out different styles is neat. Not happy with this piece though but... oh well.
Izza Mar 1
she kept looking and changing clothes
clothes that can cover the scars of her friend
friends that is always there when she need someone

a sharp metal thing, that she uses to cut her body
a pair of hand, that she uses to slap and punch
a match, that she uses to feel the heat

the friends, that always leaves mark
so she can remember that she always have a bestfriend who will always be there for her

the blood,
the bruises,
the burn mark

that three,
are the reminder of her bestfriend's existence
Radhika Lusted Aug 2018
Down down below me
A place with no hope
Where all that can find me
Is this unwinding rope

In a place filled with darkness
We’re all trapped in the pain
From the cuts on our skin
To the thoughts in our brains

But one day in life
When we all come to die
The shadows of death
Take us into the sky

To a place where we're freed
From this life that we've shaped
And we're finally given
The chance to escape
This poem emphasies the figmentation in our brains when we are in our depression and feel almost as if we literally cannot escape.
I apologise if this upsets anyone, there is always help out there and i am always here to talk <3
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
This is not, a time to loosen up
Or nine to five job to give up
Just saddle up the power is in you
Five ladies cafe to dine at five and
drove_* the meter is running
(The Canadian Cup) team versus the
     Taxi Cup
He swooned you in your
Five dreamy but half heart sugars
Come on Baby bloomers
Let's see some boom!!

In your hips men will be men taking
frequent flyer trips temptation 1 2345
We need fewer digs one love teo reasons
World  345  heart flags
We don't have to cross our hearts
Perhaps tattoo heart legs no more strikes
Jumping Jack flash
What a rope in this isn't the Pope

Somehow we all get broke
To court her like your the lasso
stars cosmos hearts like Lassie
Never a change of subject how it
remains in your heart how it hit hard
to react but changed to five cards
Digging too long  lucky 777 like heaven
Heart digs

1-where?
Oh! There

No, I am here
We are always  
In-between
numbers_ I only
have 5 minutes
No I phone have a heart
Oh! where is designed for me
Those five plates

Whats in between them
      *Him

We are opening Live- Five
Strong heart to give the caring
The useful heart is never so daring
My gate* Girls are nail digging
Hugging

Or losing add +

Flirty
*****
Our community
Heftier like Jupiter
Heart to build
the gravity
A big kiss hunch
of five roses

Your getting to bloom
but only have
5 extra movie parts
The front dress mermaid tail
Your heart delicate hands
opened up your emails
I think you hit the
Jackpot

Max to the million shot
No heart of gold
Only more leaders
Scrambling and digging
your fork
Mixing those egg beaters

Five men think they know
there women
like ten
commandments
Turn to five wrong
engagements
There it goes the lucky
five arguments

A plot beating
like a hot-shot
The French Baguette
Bread 9 to 5 firecracker
Five-carat baguette
wedding band in her safe
Heart digs to five hands
Heart neck guilty as a giraffe

The cafe house had only
5 cups left  they sold you out
Only Five Bed and breakfast
stayers
Do detailed with their Ladyfingers
But need more alone time
Be on time get sweet key lime
What is real-time so sublime

That rose- paper cut- origami
Sorcerer of five he was like the
cold cuts of big Sub Salami
Japanese sword samurai
What a Geronimo Oh! no
Jericho
This wasn't a hot potato

Or Gizmo No-Go
Getting a shot for Polio
The gusto songs to the heart play
Maestro the Cosmo's
The five stars to heart his
afterglow
Like a titanic ship but heroics

Five lunatics wedding horns ******
Five two timer Mario gamers
so demonic
DOMINO'S bed five students wed
We dug deeper get-up sleepy-head
Exposed cries location set
Network U- dig cups

Something lip curved
He misplaced my lips
What did he do in exchange
More stocks and hard stone rocks
Like frying pan egg
scrambled words

Crossed heart Rapper so believing
The Fox five sticking tacky glue
His CD Rose lying pants no clue
Painful pointed shoes need R&R
     Robin's *Responsibilities
       The Heart On Replay
The deeper you dig to restart

The healthy organically grown brain
Men on Pause I truly believe nature
takes its course
but another beat to go is that so?
And if so heart digs to five
Feel the good vibe in another tribe
Five times I had to wake you up
I am the love cure reminiscing

Giving me five reasons
Our beautiful change of
heart in season

Studying the fine art heart
Referencing
Never refusing thats life
five-step to strive nothing
Fancy

Robin shoutbox she getting
her point across
Either you're the worker or loner
The heart pleaser the boss
Your heart looks good
on your dress
Whether we win or deep mess
The good heart can change to
a bad start

Recharge your heart count to five
Venus- beauty moved on like a
pathologist digging over staying alive
The hearts what digs this is not the 9-5 workers we are talkers
and long settling in heart walkers come any join me we may actually be alive did I get a live one
harlon rivers Jan 2017
...a diary of the falling dominoes chapter

invisibly dying from the inside out
no one is looking into unseen eyes
no one can hear a muted voice fading
no one is close enough to be near

the deafening thrums echo
anxieties’ racing heartbeat
within morphing flesh shell ,
gasping for new breath
in a hovering stale silence

from a distance
the broken mirror ricochets a subdued light ;
much closer the reflection reveals
someone I once knew by heart

now an unrecognizable mask
enshrouds a terminal emptiness
inconspicuous at a fleeting glance ,
impossible to discern what storms rage
from the inside out ,... unnoticed  

an uncontained wildfire
smoldering within,  lies in wait
for the imminent winds of change
to fan the flames into the final
eternal silent ashes

a poet reaches out demurely
offering a candid look
into the window
of the imperfect human soul

there is no poetry
met by indifference
just gathered unread words scribbled,

squandered time
dripped slowly on an empty page ;
moments turn into days
days turned into years

invisibly dying from the inside out
an unfinished life trickles out
like seeping blood evanescing
from a bottomless puncture
wounding ... penetrating the heart,
leaching out the slow death of a poet

for poetry is only words unless they touch someone ...

befallen to indifference is poetic death
by salted paper cuts ...

a muting suffocation
that hiddenly erodes away,
silencing the passion
of a musing soul
one unread word at a time ...


© harlon rivers ... all rights reserved
it is an enigma how poetry evolves in meaning over time
― like a self-fulfilled prophecy, some become transformational, some become new beginnings or some become a finality of a metamorphosis of peaceful endings or deleted attempts at understanding the misunderstood...

... all to be determined and allowed to let be

― THE END ―
Hg Dec 2018
rapunkzel, rapunkzel
shaved off her hair
goldie locks chopped off
long with her cares

rapunkzel, rapunkzel
takes every dare
hits on the devil
as if he’s a snare

rapunkzel, rapunkzel
says hold my beer
shows to the cars
her new ****** pierce

rapunkzel, rapunkzel
how’d you get here
once upon a crime
she grew up it fear

locked up, captive
kept up the stairs
no parents
put in foster care

never had a youth
and no one to care
dragged down the hall
by her curly hair

rapunkzel, rapunkzel
got out of there
had to skip town
but soon reappeared

rapunkzel, rapunkzel
let’s them all stare
cuts what she want
cuz it’s not their hair

it’s yours, your time
your life in the mirror
it’s yours, your eyes
deciding your fair

your fair, they’re fair
who’s fairest? who cares!
you’re allowed to love
who and what ever

you ******* want
whether you’re a prince
or a queen, we don’t
give a ****

and that’s the real tale
we need to tell our kids
either be yourself
or you’ll never live
©Hg
yúyīn Jan 2017
Everyone comes with scars,
But you can love them away.
I told you that I wasn't perfect,
You told me the same
'You don't get it, I-"
'Shh, I love you, imperfections and all',
You said
But a month later,
Everything changed
You looked at me with disgust-
Like I was **** on legs
'I'm breaking up with you',
You said
'Why', I asked
'You're not perfect, I don't love you'
Hysterical sobs, at the loss of-
What I thought was love
'But I love you!',
I screamed at the closed door,
For you walked out on me
Your previous words meant nothing
I'm not worth loving, why?
The cuts on my thighs?
My eyes full of hurt?
My mouth full of lies?
The pain you caused,
Hurt more than the fresh cuts-
I just made
These were dedicated to you
Etched into my skin,
The perfect reminder of the pain you caused
'I love you' it said,
Used my blood to make-
a small heart on my tear-stained cheek
Then I slashed both wrists
They were dedicated to you
I love you
Hours later, remembering something-
You left
Found me lying there,
With the note cut into my hand,
'I love you' it said
The perfect reminder of the pain you caused
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2018
Burning, midday asphalt
reaches up to break my fall,
as I crumple in a heap
of broken pain.

Wiping blood and sweat
from my face,
a voice cuts through the
sound of my beating heart.

Gentle hands reach out,
calm and soothing,
lead me to icy coolness
and safety.

Divine messengers,  
press me to ride
their magic medical van
to ER.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
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