Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Destiny C Mar 2022
I don't know how I feel...
So I write to try and make some sense of it all.
There are thoughts in the back of my head that make my skin crawl.

There isn't enough words to express all I try to emote,
So instead I write to keep afloat.
I gave up self harm,
a former vehichle of self expression,
So here I am writing to stave away my depression.
#depression #selfexpression #streamofconsciousness
Destiny C Jan 2022
The Hopeless Romantic...

You lust me,
But you love me not.

I want to know your deepest secrets, and the passions that make your heart soar.
I want your love so much..
oh so much,
that it brings me to the floor.

I want to sleep next to you,
and write sweet poems about you when I can't sleep through the night.

Then I want to read them to you,
while you're awake,
So you can hold me tight.

But instead you choose the other girl.
Because you always do.

You'll swipe up on my pictures,
and tell me sweet nothings you think I want to hear...
Lust after my body,
as if my mind wasn't here.

I'm the girl you lust after,
not the girl you love.

I'm a hopless romantic,
because I know i'll never find someone who loves me for me...
Destiny C Sep 2021
It's been awhile since I thought about love.
I closed myself off to it,
And have yet to open up that door.

But I think about it now.
That must count for something,
Or maybe nothing.
But it's on my mind.

Love is a vulnerable place,
so intimate,
it's hard to find.
Made impossible to search for,
behind the door.

The one I closed.
Because I was too scared of the unknown.

But I have hope that i'll open it again one day.

I'll take it one day at a time.
Destiny C Sep 2021
I never write love poems.
I think it's because I'm afraid to

open up & feel so vulnerable.
I'd have to look inside my heart,
to write something beautiful,
intimate,
and heartfelt.
I'd have to embrace the warmth,
and reflect on the lingering traces,
of the hand once in mine.
The love that once had it's time.

I'm afraid to confront those feelings.
I'm afraid to commit to love,
even if it's the everlasting type,
where two stars collide,
in the afterlife,
like they did milleniums before.

I've been hurt so deeply.
In ways I haven't felt before.
I'm not sure I can take it anymore.

But I dream of not being afraid of love.
One day,
I'll write love poems.
I'll find the person worth writing lines,
and stanzas about.
One that makes me forget we're in a drought.
Can I be loved?
Am I defective?
Is there someone dreaming of me?
Are you going to leave like the rest?


Can you love me?
Destiny C Sep 2021
SA Trigger Warning*

I can still remember the couch.
The way I cried in my friend's arms when I thought of that couch.
Pinned down.
Abused.
Forcefully used.
On the couch.

Couch.

I still remember going into my apartment alone after.
The way my body shaked for nights spent crying in my bed after.
At my friend's apartment after.
In the hospital after.
Years after.

After.

They say the mind can forget sometimes,
but what always remembers the trauma is the body.
The one that kicked and fought off the body.
The one that layed under the body.
The violated body.
The tortured body.
The unsafe body.

The Body

After

The Couch...

was never the same.
Not for me to blame.

I know that now.
If you or someone you know has been subjected to ****** assault. Please be aware that you can contact the ****** Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673 (US).
  Sep 2021 Destiny C
Crow
we do not write poetry
we write mirrors
which are held up
to curious faces
who read
looking for their
own reflections
Next page