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Alexander Sep 2018
Everything in place,
A single book out
Made my world cave.
I tried to reason with my mind
But it always struggled to be right.
So I pushed my finger nails
Into  the bed of my palms
And ten,
****** half- moons
Lighted my way home.
I wrote this about the fear of not being perfect.
jane taylor May 2016
and there i am in the midst of it all, conscious of what appears to be existent, yet knowing it is illusory.  and if time is occurring synchronously then how can i look back with contrition?  for if i have the capacity to move backwards and forwards in quantum leaps, i can erase the past like pastel chalk on an antique blackboard, then start anew.  is not the sky my canvas and the arc of the rainbow my palette?  and the stars in lustrous luminosity light my way so that ev’n at dusk I can paint.  yet pain ne’er ceases to hollow me out.  then through a barren vessel i catch more rain, and pour it out upon the parched terrain.  just when i thought enlightenment was nigh, a sharp edge is discovered.  must it necessitate additional sandpapering from the wind?  when will the gemstone sparkle without further pressure?  does it lie in its power to simply shimmer sans duress?  perhaps it was dazzling at its inception, relinquishing its luster upon domestication.  with this proviso, as it nears twilight i shall tarry and blend with the night.  i’ll dance with a moonbeam knowing the jewel will glisten afresh upon the rise of the golden sun.

Stella Oct 2018
a day that never ends
fears, pressure and fake friends

playing with teenage hearts
seems just like playing cards

thousands of sleepless nights
and absolutely no rights

but where´s the education?
Umi Mar 2018
The Chains of ones fate are undenyable, as life carries on,
Servants caught in a **** of rebirth without ever escaping,
A red thread which leads verily onto a destined pathway,
Decisions, the pen and the ink for ones book of destiny,
They may ruin the servant, or bring them great happiness,
May mislead, trick, ****** or even manipulate them without their conciousness or understanding of the weight they brought upon their poor little, yet precious bodies which carry on depression as if it was the weight of the world or far beyond that registered mass,
In a hole with seemingly no escape to it, trapped in misery,
Chains of suffocating pressure are keeping them in place,
Oh what a terrible fate it must be to be in this position,
Patience, hope and positivity are needed to see another ray of sunlight, shining beyond the scene of the darkened clouds above
Once this trial has been overcome they too will shine with newfound strengh, energy and relieving glee from within themselves,
So fight on, you precious souls, you are worth more than you might think or would even admit to yourselves, then shine
That would be, a great wish of mine

~ Umi
Trish Sep 2018
I sighed, it feel so heavy
"I'm tired." my body says

Mountain range of burden
And pressure everyday
Soul floating in the wind
A broken glass-like heart
Marathon of thoughts
Waterfall of tears

"I am so done with life"

A smile turned upside down
Tripped in a whole of anxiety
Memories of past says hello

"I just want to be happy"

Inner self screaming for help
Every color faded turned into gray
Lowkey asking people to stay
But urgently pushing everyone away

"Everything seems nonsense"

School is like a place of gamble
Going everyday is like placing a bet
Having unsure future after efforts been made

"I'm done with these hardship I'm going through"

Cutting ties with friends and family
Shutting people out is like a hobby
Getting used to all the moments

"I'm alone anyway so why bother?"
I still feel unsure for the title since I'm bad at coming up with titles for my poem
julianna Dec 2018
Keep it to yourself,
Under pressure I will break
Off of balance,
Off my game.
Expect nothing
Expect nothing.
I have a fear of rejection and it sometimes gets in the way of me making new friends. If you have no expectations, I can surpass them, but if I do surpass them, then I’m afraid of not being able to live up to them again.
mal frost Oct 2018
but i like it,
the stress that i
heap onto myself like an extra serving
high expectations that i know I can't reach
"shoot for the stars", yeah,
but my spaceship light up and fall back down
straight through the clouds
that they said would catch me

but i like it,
the stress that makes my hands
shake, my heart race, my mind buzz
every smoke, every drink, every kiss
one hundred times better

and i love it,
the stress that'll crush me alive
diamond in the rough
nah, i'm just some coal
combusting, all or nothing
to the end.
stress feels so good
Äŧül Jul 2018
I shall talk a bit about Pressure,
It's about how it you can measure,
Learn physics well & earn a treasure.
For all the physicists!
1 Pascal = 0.1019716212978 kg-N/m²
My HP Poem #1714
©Atul Kaushal
Seanathon Jan 2018
When did our altered
   culture decide
     that WE
       would be happy
         with our little screens
           and such little stillness
             within our lives
Sad really
Hollow Steve Aug 2018
It squeezes my head...

I'm pulled aside,
I'm left alone,
I'm left with company.
It squeezes my head.

No other place left to go,
nothing else left to see.
It squeezes my head.

Nothing else left to say,
no one else left to talk to.
It squeezes my head.

If it could hear me,
I'd say it's squeezing my head.

It wouldn't matter though...
It'll continue squeezing my head.
s Jun 2018
your hug is like
that blood pressure gauge
- that slowly inflates
to check all my vitals;
or a dash charging socket
for all my circuits & bones
- twenty minutes -
for the battery to be whole.

cupping my feet on cold days,
and breathing into my toes
because these socks  have too many holes.
And on any day, you swivel me up
when I run into you for a no reason hug.

starting to forget how it would feel
to not have access to these tiny luxuries.

What great sins have we in secrets
Peering at exertions too quickly,
Even in new dawns, regrets are made burgeoned
And with every leniency given
We maul at our grievance.

But time measures our sorrows
By faith
Pyrrha Sep 2018
He is afraid of his future
Unsure what path to walk
Upon his tightrope of pressure
He walks without a safety net

If he looks down he falls
If he looks up he becomes dizzy
His only option is to look straight ahead
Eventually he will reach the other side to safety

But it isn’t about the start or the end
It is about the journey and the adventure in between
It will work itself out
If he keeps a level head and his balance is set

He will see his future fall in place before it's met
And kiss the thin rope he had tread
As it took him on the path that showed to him
The meaning of destiny, fate, and chance
Chezka Sep 2018
Adulting is not easy,
success is the number one enemy,
wondering what world can be,
pressure from everyone is a worry,
though it shouldn't be a reason to concede,
because there are dreams and goals to forsee.
Never let anyone or anything become a hindrance on pursuing your dreams.
Sovit Pokhrel Mar 22
What's gone is gone, i say !
What's coming, feels the same.
Regrets and mistakes,
A life, on stakes.
Past ! Haunts me,
Future ! Scares me,
Present ! Is, where i want to be.

What i did, resents me.
What i'll do, will represent me.
A life on the line,
Dangling hopes,
I wish, were, mine.
Past ! Haunts me,
Future ! Scares me,
Present ! Is, where i want to be.
Modern life is a life of worries, anxiety and pressure. Dont forget to smile & breathe. Listen to your mind every now and then. You might be surprised with your own capabilities.
**** 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
Cné Jan 2018
sits in an arm chair
slouched and relaxed,
watching her
with a glass of whiskey
in his hand

lays on the bed
*****, long legs spread
watching him
watching her.
asks her to do
what he had
been dreaming of
even before seeing her *****.
Beautiful scenery

strokes light and feathery, at first
delicate fingers tracing
up and down
while the other hand
on her breast
tipping her nip
mesmerized by the show
he takes a sip of whiskey
the burn does not compare to
the burn growing in his pants

dips a finger inside,
spreading the glistening liquid
found across her inner lips
increasing the pressure
and moving from side to side
doesn’t know where to look
as she concentrates
on her ******,
pulling at the tip
she gnaws her bottom lip
he settles on her eyes

picks up speed,
the circles of her fingers
smaller and smaller,
focusing on her pearl
shallow breaths growing rapid
as she nears her peak
slips out of his shirt
he starts to sweat
unbuckling his pants
to release
the growing pressure

tilts her hips
finding the optimal position
to intensify her pleasure
holds his breath
to hear the
gasping of her breath

eyes on him, longingly,
back arches,
head falls back
and lips part
“Oh God”
in heavy breath
whispers unsure he said it aloud

Happy **** Day
Etelith Feb 8
When you say you’re going to end your own life.

People think that you’re just saying.

What if the next moment, you’re laying in front of their leg lifelessness with blood gushing out from your brain?

Do you think they’re still not serious about it?
Anton Mar 30
дуло револьвера
дует в одуванчики
под патронами из пуха
пал июньский град

дуло револьвера
дышит дурианами
и взрыхлён окопами
мадагаскарский сад

безлики каски целятся
в припухшую щеку
струйка дыма стелется
за тридцать кадров до

без весточки из города
пригнуться не могу
без спин моих собратьев
ведь пропаду я в ров

стрижиха клюёт клевер,
впитавший плоть ее стрижа
но пуля мчится не спеша

бетон окутал злые лица,
обдал оттенком шрамов слепость
на что бы здесь облокотиться,
где миновать заряда спелость

вот опадет он прахом
на стебли пшеницы,
но нужен ли шанс
сюда возвратиться?
Lurid pressure in perfect hiding,

Heat rises amidst quiet timing.

Covers conceal fingers,
And skin conceals-


Only from the blinded.

Flitting breath from lungs to neck,

Begging tongue,
And baiting breast.

Tentative flesh,
Upon tentative flesh,

What comes next?

Anything I want,

If this is,

Don't judge my #'s
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