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September Roses May 2018
How do I write in a poem that I am
        S C R E A M N G
How do I convey how  f r u s t r a t e d I am
How do I get you to know how
      o              u       i          g
c         n              s        n
                  f
        my mind is right now
How do I explain my writings of a crumbling sanity as poetic licence
      It becomes easy when nobody knows your how much of concealed life you really have
    
           My mother can't worry, She doesn't have such terrible thoughts


The bullets I try to use just ricochet around my skull blending my memories, rattling my thoughts.
My personality has died with my will to live
Kassiani Nov 2010
I always suspected electricity
Ran rampant through my veins
To make me dazed and dizzy
But unable to sit still
It made me prone to flights of fancy
So I left giddy trails of sparks
Blazing proof of my restlessness
That once brightly caught your eye

Once your gaze had found my own
My moods came in swooning flares
And you crackled alongside me
Filling my aching, empty silence
With shiny, blessed noise
We burned so beautifully
With my electric fire
And your trilling declamations
Light and sound intertwining
Like thunder that had finally caught up with its lightning

It seemed like Nature's order
A completion of the whole
Two halves that followed each other
Unthinkingly and automatically

So one day when I found silence
It felt like Earth itself was splitting

Panicked, I burned more brightly
Stoked the fire just in case
I feared that I had dimmed
And been the cause of this new quietness
So when I still heard nothing
I thought my efforts insufficient
And I ran my highest currents
Until my wires nearly melted
Thinking the sun and I were comparable
And anticipating a response

And still I heard no trilling
No crackling at my side
So I wondered if perhaps
I had shined beyond your limits
Swiftly, I contracted
Reined in my flares and doused the fire
Thinking sudden darkness
Might just shock you into sound

I finally heard the faintest popping
Not quite the rending that I wanted
But a break from quiet all the same
Afraid of spoiling the moment
I leashed my electricity
Kept myself dim so I could hear you
Though I felt the writhing beneath my skin

It finally became unbearable
So I flashed like wild lightning
Lashed out and struck the ground
Hoping for your thunder
A dark and roiling storm
Swirling raindrops and clouds colliding
And deep, **** noise

All I wanted was your thunder
But in the end
It was only me yelling
Screaming out for downpours
Alone
Listening to my own echoes
Waiting for you to harmonize

In the end
I was always waiting
Wondering when you'd chosen silence
Wondering why I'd let you dim me
Wondering how it was we'd ever *burned
Written 5/22/10
PoserPersona May 2018
The mind and heart switch roles
          For reasons to stay untold

                               Silently screaming chest
                    Racing and quivering head

      Thoughts whip light speed modest
Body barely leaves its bed

          Unhappy for nothing
               Motivated for nothing

                    Paralyzing deadlocks,
                  Anxiety's Paradoxes
Form is supposed to be a twister or whirlwind. Hoping that's apparent before you read this lol.
Dani Sep 2018
1
Screams in the night,
Sleeping all day.
Yelps of pain,
And cries of anger.

****** torture,
Mind disruption,
Soul disappearance

Tears in the light
Screams in the night.

2
Terror through and through,
Scared thoughts of pain.
Living in sadness,
Then despair,

Life drained.
Dark appears.
Nothing left.

All taken and blue,
Terror through and through.
I wrote these separately, but feel now that they belong together. I spent a lot of my teen years caring for my mentally and physically ill mother. I remember being afraid to sleep because I'd get woken by her screaming in pain or mentally ill fears.
Persephone May 2018
She stayed up in her high tower
Not knowing if she should come down
She was warned that the world outside was dark and dreary
But the tower within was as well
She had a choice
To choose which demon she wanted to dance with
The one with in or the one out
No one else would tell her
So she was left to scream, and to shout
Sanjali Jul 2018
15
-A Little Dead For Me-

I know your laughter

And your tears

Your frustrations

And your fears.

Too bad, you’re a little dead for me.

When you scream

I can’t control

Your own hands

From breaking your soul.

Yes, you’re a little dead for me.

I don’t want

To play God

But if you listen

To yourself on record

You’ll know why you’re a little dead for me.

Everyday

I’ll still pretend

I do not know

How this thing ends,

How you’re a little dead for me

And how I’m completely dead for you.
Ray T Mar 2018
If I told anyone I was *****, they wouldn’t believe me
I live in a world that preaches against hypothetical violence but when that **** comes into your life, everyone pushes it away.
I remember, no I don’t remember, I can barely remember his name.
I think it started with a “C”.
I think he was from Minnesota.
I think we were on a sixteen hour flight.
I think he smiled at me.
I think I smiled back, because why the **** wouldn’t I.
I think he took that as a green light.
I think I shut my eyes to try and sleep.
I think he took that as a green light.
I am fifteen.
I think too little of his advances and trust society enough for me to rest.
I know that was a mistake.
I know I woke up to a blanket around me that wasn’t there before.
I know I woke up to his palm pressed in my pants.
I know I woke up screaming.
I know I couldn’t open my mouth.
I know I was screaming.
I know my mother was on that same plane three rows back.
I was fifteen.

I told my friends and they never believed me.
I haven’t told a soul since.
Why did he walk away from that unscratched while I have been carrying it around like a dead animal for three years?
Why do men think they can own what they can see?
Let me tell you what I can see:
Five people who asked me why I didn’t fight back.
Four people that were sitting around me and claimed to see him putting the cover on me, yet did nothing.
Three of his friends I saw later on the trip who praised him for what he accomplished upon seeing what I looked like.
Two eyes in the mirror that cry almost everyday.
And one ***** in that same mirror that will never go away.
Thank you all for your responses. This feels so amazing to let it all out in my words. This is about my first experience.
Sienna Oct 2018
you shoved me underwater.
out of sight,
out of mind.

i screamed.
you saw the bubbles,
and you ignored them.

you act as if i'm not alive.
and at this point,
i'm not sure you even care.
he's ignoring me now.
i'm trying to understand.
it's just so hard.
Jaycee Nov 2014
Tears,
Shatter.
The floor,
Cracks.

Against the splashes,
You hear them splat.
Your heart beats furiously.
The girls heart breaks.

She falls.
Eyes shut.
The hits,
Leave cuts.
Her smile,
Vanished.

Against her own will,
She lashes.
Screaming,
"Mother, no!"
September Roses May 2018
Once we were on fire
Young    rebeliouse   free
We stormed the castles and took to the skies we flew we dreamed
We were ablaze our light setting raging screaming fire to the world around us
When our thoughts could not sit in silence any longer
When the kids were engulfed by a wave of fury of the injustice done by this world before we were even here
We screamed and demanded
OUR VOICES WOULD BE HEARD
But now it rains
Now the cold heavy water blankets the restless
The fire has been drenched in worry and stress
The brutal downpour has distracted all with false life or death
The blaze once 100 feet high now nothing but a charred soul

And all the ones put out by the rain
to tired to fight again,
pray on the generation next
That their fire is enough to best the storm
September Roses Feb 2018
The flames they rise up inside of me
an inferno of words, all screaming
fighting
to be the first to break my outer shell
to be the first to break me
to make me let one slip,
to form a *****, running down my face
inviting people to pull it open.
and as curiosity consumes most,
that one inferno risen word
will be the end of me
Troy Nov 2017
I am a bad person
I don't belong here
I never did

Don't you see
I'm a nothing
A nobody

An emo piece of trash
That should never have existed
I get called ****
I get called fat

And yet
I won't eat
My body won't let me
And it hurts

4 days
4 days with nothing
4 long days with crying
4 days telling myself I should go

4 days telling myself
You all would be better off
If I wasn't here

You would be
And he tried to stop me

Break downs
Not eating
Cutting

I thought I was doing good
But the cycle goes on and on
And he was the only one to notice

I hide behind a fake mask
So none of you will worry
But what do I get

I play mad so you won't see I'm sad
I play happy so you won't see I'm tired

I get blocked
I get called names
And worst of all

I thought I was getting better
But I broke
So have fun

And I'll have fun as me
And my blocked life
Inner Demons May 2018
Despite the screaming in my head,
The tears in my eyes
"I'm fine..."
Is what I said
"I'll be there in a few minutes..."
Then I put down the phone
And ran into the street
My suicide
"An accident" they'll say
The perfect plan.

The average person lies four times a day,
The most common lie is
"I'm fine"

I nvisible
'
M arred
F ucked
I nsecure
N uerotic
E mpty
Shofi Ahmed May 2017
When you stepped in my door,
I realised I was Paradise
in my heart and soul.
You were so surefooted
because you came up from the high.
So long I longed for it.
O Fathima, only to kiss your feet!

The time was so sweet,
beyond anyone’s dream
only in pure beauty
I was rendering,
screaming to new highs.
I did it my way!
Lovely bouncing on
my polished pitch,
the rivers forget to flow
back to the seas.
But no one knew
where my toe melts!
Until you did
and took me for a tread
closer to your spring,
my sweet dream:
O Fathima, only to kiss your feet!

Your so pleased man wished
to rain down with love,
but humble you hid your feet!
You blinded the moon, snowed it
away under seven seas.
No wonder it's
your winning footing.
Like the Prophet said:
I found me the heaven
beneath the mother’s feet.
O Fathima, only on your feet!
Evelyn Genao Nov 2018
The waves crash against my body,
As the tide pulled me further out.

I screamed, salty water filled my lungs,
No one…. heard me.

I am alone. Dying.
The laughter of the waves in my ears.

The gods looked down upon me,
They see me in pain, they do not care.

With a final crash,
I slipped under.

I am drowning.
Darkness surrounds me.

Sinking deeper and deeper,
Vision growing blurry.

My last breath escaped my lips,
Knives impaled my stomach.
I hope you love it and be sure to comment what you think. And if you loved this then check out my other poems!
Father Jul 2018
Um basically that I'm not crazy that she's being rediculous  and selfish and legit tell me I'm right not dismiss it like oh how about we try and work with her even more then what I just sent u and have her make it even more difficult on me u all think it so easy I get off work at 9 no way I could take him to school and my son will want to see his family at my house not just Legoland everyone always thinking of themselves and **** one day I won't be here and then everyone will see how far I was pushed and how hard. I worked and how hard I tried and when that happens itll be too late because I'll be gone u have ur kids u have ur husband Stephen does everyone has someone I legit am all I have so the only kind of love I get to where I feel like I'm needed is my son he's all I have and what keeps me going but Jesus iv been fighting like a maniac for almost 6 years now to keep him in my life and sacrifice my health my happiness my everything just so I can pay child support and try to get him as much as I'm able outa of pure selfishness no one gets it no one trys to get it everyone is focused on everything else to really see what's going on u have no idea how many times I write my good bye letters to everyone but stop when I get to my son because I legit can't and won't and absolutely refuse to leave him alone with that ***** and that selfish family all he has but Jesus dude I'm not super man I get **** from everyone in every direction and constantly get told and made to feel like I'm hated and everything else when I legit do so much for everyone and care so much about everyone and the one thing I have my happiness is my child my son and I never get to even take him for more than a day and I'm dead tired because I work my *** off to distract myself from my ****** existence and misserey I've been thru **** and back my entire life and I'm stronger because of it but no one understands that my laughter my smiles my jokes my comedy is to distract me and everyone else to the reality that I'm on the verge of death the verge of giving up the verge of loosing hope the verge of saying goodbye to the one thing that deserves so much more than I could give my baby boy my hero my heart my soul my everything my pride and joy how happy I was to find out of his creation and ready I was to bring the beautiful blessing to the world into my life how ready I was to be there and watch the miracle of him every step every laugh every tiny amazing miracle of him growing and learning and I've had all the dreams all the hope  to be there and deserved to be there still deserve to be there and missed so much of his life because of a evil hateful selfish heartless demon that manipulated my mind my actions and my heart and took what strength I had and fed on it with pleasure and sick love for destroying my soul I'm living in **** and the demon that is evil has fed clawed and ****** away my will to the point where I'm just a dim light of what I was born to be and have the potential to be the light is almost out and my little savior my baby boy is left with nothing but a shadow a like a belief that his protector didn't care and wasn't there and the demon will feed him nothing but lies and hate and fill him with nothing but hate and  resentment and confusion and anger until his sweet Innocents vanishes and light starts to dim and left to feel all alone this is as deep as it gets do I share this do I send this questions I am left with do I open up and cry for help scream for help problem is I've been screaming for years and I'm trapped so far into the darkness that no one can see or hear the crys the begging and pleading for it to end save me Help me someone but there's no one just me my miracle and the demon trying to devour what's left of my soul and diminish me from existence and tarnish and manifest itself to become the very image of me and my baby boy will look at me as nothing but the very  demon  that left him without a father as the demon feeds him the darkness I left behind the memory of me will be nothing but a random thought that will be covered up by lies and fear and resentment in my child's eyes because the demon is now me in my child's eyes and that's when the demon wins that's when the demon is finally full not after I'm gone but when the last bit of love or light I leave behind is replaced with itself and my baby boy thinks of me as nothing but the very demon that destroyed me then just maybe then the demon will win cause now the demon is my son's mother the only one there and becomes the hero and I become the demon in his eyes I'm lost I'm afraid I'm alone and begging and pleading for it to change to end to stop in the end if **** is for ever and if I'm in **** and it really is for ever then the only thing I'll be wanting or screaming or hoping is for it to end to stop to cease to exist in the end my enemy is not the demon feeding on my soul it's the never ending pain and suffering the forever the continue the hope the urge to keep going in the end my enemy is time and the only way I can stop time is to take my self out of the equation and the light that is left the life the will to live goes out dies disappears and leaves nothing but a void and darkness like it never existed good bye is close and hope is lost my will is gone nothingness is where I'm headed my little miracle is all that keeps the light inside my soul lit the flame is low and I'm affraid that it won't last or make it
Comment
Farrell Nov 2018
“I heard a women say my eyes were screaming at her  
  maybe she was right
  screaming for help”
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
Memories crying, screaming to be heard.
Try as I might to bury these amidst busy days,
still they rise from the backyard of my mind haunting my dreams,
making youth a nightmarish memory.

Empty rooms cry out in agonizing silence.
White ghosts float on lifeless bodies with the same question; why?
Anxious moments still taunt just beyond of safety.
The sickness that gave birth to this still clouds the mind.  

So long ago, a lifetime to make peace, still lucid moments of torment
making March an anniversary dirge.
It makes no sense to cry for those gone, for mortals spent in tragedy,
yet every year I try to understand once again, why?
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
September Roses May 2018
We are tied together by our stories, our history
Tales woven through our ancestry, when our parents talk of their younger days
When their life was ahead of them, the future was anything and everything, they speak of their old friends with ache in their soul
Of times when their hearts were filled with fire and passion, running through fields growing memories  planted by the world around them
When they could sprint the wind in their hair, adventure ahead, hope in their heart.
They speak of the days behind with woe
Because essentially just their ideas of the future as a young mind, was more exciting than reality.
As dreams failed and hope faded
As their minds wear and their treasured stories that made them who they are fog over
As threads begin to wear
As tales they once yelled to the world with pride frays at the details
Your whole world slipping away as the thread unwinds
But they get the joy of passing down the tapestry to their pride and joy, to the life they made, every one of us
Every moment we live with ease of no appreciation for every experience every laugh
Moments we take for granted
Moments we will pine for when they run out
Moments the elderly urge us with fire to be aware of the importance of
Moments we'll wish we listened to them about
There is a vast tapestry of memories behind you and infinite thread panning out in front of you, connecting to other tapestries, visiting at friends, at enemies, joining with soul-mates future, some cut away, some ripped from the tapestries to soon before they could weave their own
A loose thread cannot be fixed once more are made, and the patterns will never be what you want them to be, savour each stitch
Take time on every thread
You don't want to be sitting there 50 years old thinking about the life you wasted
About the memories faded
About how every slipping memories never like the moment you made it
Don't be sitting 90 filled with regret
Filled with hatred for every opportunity you left
Screaming into the voice about how much you hate what your life become.

because they say time flys when your having fun truth is time only flies when you're young.
Robin Lemmen Aug 2018
I love company
In the form of anxious thoughts
I am less lonely
Accompanied by twenty screaming voices
Tearing at my every inch of flesh
Pouring pain into my veins
Crying is good for the soul
They laugh in union
As I lie lonely in my bed
Hoping someone will find me
Bruised and broken
And take me into their arms
Hold me like a child
But you are too grown to feel such things
These voices whisper, licking blood
Carefully off their fingers
Spikes poke at my sides leaving no room
For me to move or breathe
I am slowly dying
And yet I tell you I am fine
For if I were to ever admit
That this is how I truly feel
My demons would take form
No longer shadows but figures
Ready to take me whole
Cné May 2017
'twas a long hot summer day
sticky air without a breeze
concrete burning my bare feet
cicadas screaming in the trees

a triggered memory
smelling honeysuckle scent,
the way he looked at me
remembering what he meant

when I was sixteen
with his mischievous grin
and a squint in his eye
he said, I hope you know how to swim

in his old pick up truck
as we rolled the windows down
he drove us to this place
in the woods outside of town

off road, through a pasture
to a watering hole, he found
guaranteed to cool me off
from spring fed water underground

sweet talking me *****
still not sure how he did it
a memory now sacred
my first time skinny dippin'
I still love skinny dippin' to this very day
em Jul 2015
maybe all i need to stop this pain is a little motrin.
maybe all i need to stop this bleeding is a band-aid.
maybe all i need to stop this screaming are some ear plugs.
maybe all i need to stop this drowning is a life raft.
maybe all i need to stop this agony is a little numbness.

numbness...


it wears off,  doesn't stop the pain only holds back the flood gates
of sleepless nights and screaming hearts, bloodshot eyes and rejections knife.
just long enough for me to catch a glimmer of hope, a mirage
in the Sahara, so beautiful yet so cruel.  
just as i get close enough to taste
a sweet tomorrow,
the desert sun sets.
and i'm still bleeding,
and you're still
gone.

maybe all i need to stop this searching is a little less hope.
feedback? i kinda like this as spoken work....thoughts ;)
L B Jul 2018
An early evening gust
broke the back of the day's blaze
Still 90 degrees at eight
in orange haze
Sweat runs down my neck
Through the gorge between my *******
The wind lifts my linen shirt
runs its hands along my sides
reviving memory
of Forest Park
of a blanket in the grass

Where the pines trace
so many faces
Crackling popping kids
stolen matches, running
screaming victorious!
Blowing tin cans up with fire crackers
Bicycles, sparklers, fireworks at dusk
That whole afternoon
I spent hammering caps

Noise really makes us kids
really
especially
annoying

Mom wants us out!
Gone! All of us!
No needs. No excuses!
No cookies! No slices of bologna!
“No more Kool Aid!
Out now!
Out!”

That evening I tried
to dismiss the itchy sweat
of ******-sister-Suzy-matching-sun-suits
at Gino's family picnic
When some kid
(I don't know?)
between the rigatoni and the sweet corn
Some kid
tosses a sparkler
into box of fireworks
I don't know?
whether to cry or laugh
I was pretty scared
Rockets going off across the lawn
and onto porch
Craze of colors through the trees
Some at eye-level horror!
But the sight of Aunt Nedda
diving under picnic table
Stockings, garter belt upended
Capsized beyond her caring
of uplifted dress

Some images just stay with you, ya know?

July 4th always lands for me
on a firework's ***
"Caps"  are little red rolls of gunpowder dots, originally made to give a snap to toy guns of the 1950s.  We figured out that by layering them and using a hammer, you could get a bigger *****.
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