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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
        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
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
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.

Knives impaled my stomach,
My last breath escaped my lips.
I hope you love it and be sure to comment what you think. And if you loved this then check out my other poems!
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
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.

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
-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.


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.
Osiria Melody Apr 14
                   ­                       don't tell me
                   ­                             what love is
                                                   ­                 Why so?

                                                 i've never felt it

                              So what should i do?

                                       well, it's quite simple

                                                         ­          show me

                                But, love ain't simple!

                                                        ­     exactly, so don't


                                                               ­  loving me

                                                    You're always

                                  like the ocean,

                                                always there

                                                               ­       to sway

                                                      me into

                                                               ­  you

                                                never come back

  ­                                                   4/14/19
These apricot grains of sand snuggle against my toes, a malleable shelter.
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!
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 crack 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.
JayceeJellies Nov 2014
The floor,

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,

Against her own will,
She lashes.
"Mother, no!"
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.
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
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
Mia Kuhnle Apr 2
When I was 17
I wanted to be just like it.  
A girl of the heedless, of a twisted wind
And lashing overstory.
Bold in choice eyes burning gallant
When I stood not alone
On screaming nights
In crowded habitation

Writing my future’s
Threatening tumult
Apart from regularity
Prerogative, accompanying grail
Withered leaves of change.
Left with nothing more,
But to turn them over.
Inspired by and based off of the works of Larsen Bowker
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

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

That evening I tried
to dismiss the itchy sweat
of stupid-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 crack.
September Roses Feb 2018
The flames they rise up inside of me
an inferno of words, all screaming
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 crack, 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

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
Charlie Black 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
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