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B Jun 23
I’ll flush the blood
Down the drain
So the only known
Will be in my brain
It doesn’t hurt
To run my fingers
Down the lines
Of red like wines
I love the pain
But I know that
The know of it
Will make me splat
AMAN12 Jun 19
Mirror in the washroom, mirror in the hall,
who is the saddest, most tragic of all?
Me, me, me— our chant, our plea, our scroll.
We cry for heartbreak, curse what we recall,
mourn mood swings and childhood’s sprawl.
We share our feelings, raw and blatant,
talk as if we own sorrow’s patent.
An indulgent binge of trauma dumping
hailed as “growth,” with echoes thumping.

“Let down your hair,” the mirror said
"So, I may climb into your head."
We let the mirror live inside,
Fed it fears, we were meant to hide.
We center our every breath on “I,”
crown our pain and let it sanctify.
We kneel to our image like an altar
then robe our grief in saints for slaughter.

“The slipper fits,” the mirror lied
“So, dance until you feel alive.”
We twirl in dreams we can't escape
beneath a veil we cannot scrape.
The mirror smirks with every spin—
“Keep dancing. You’ve already let me in.”

"Just close your eyes,” the mirror sighed,
“The world will wait—just stay inside.”
And so, we did, in cushioned sleep,
clinging to the dreams we were fed,
And the world burned beyond our bed.

The mirror waits with breathless grace.
It doesn’t show. It holds our face.
In a world where validation is currency and confession is performance, Mirrorfeed holds up the glass—and watches us dance. Through fractured fairytales and algorithmic spells, this searing poem critiques curated grief, performative pain, and our quiet complicity as the world burns behind our screens. It doesn’t just reflect. It remembers.
Mitra Jun 13
Graceful sway of her long, elegant fingers,
The hypnotic smile of her sweet face lingers.
Her favorite songs are burned into my brain—
An addiction so strong, it drives me insane.
“That’s not very poetic,” the bird laughs.
“Truths are more often than not chaotic,” I say.

Then the bird takes a leap, and up she goes.
I chase after her, for she has given me hope.
I realize that it’s selfish, that it’s scary,
But it’s also just part of being human.

She’s an artist stuck in a spiral of despair,
The fallen angel sleeps in her lonely hair.
I pray to God, “Please let me be there.”
Even if for a fleeting moment,
Let me be what her bleeding soul requires.

The morning sun takes away my breath;
The freezing cold brings it back.
“Ironic, isn’t it?” the bird flies past me.
“If that’s what it takes to make you laugh again.”

I took refuge in her voice; the warmth kept me safe.
“A step towards nirvana,” I said.
“You don’t sound very convincing,” the bird chuckled.
I’d let you have my heart if that’s what it takes to prove my words.

The sun went down, and the moon hid herself,
But I kept chasing after the unknown bird,
Hoping to get another glimpse, to add her presence to my dreams,
Hoping someday she’ll hold me tight and never let go.
Charmour Jun 12
:/
You were the cigarette i couldn't quit–
Sweet poison on my lips
Slow death disguised as desire
Darvin Ray Jun 11
A prisoner
of my own desire,

balancing
the slippery *****.

“This time I’ll be better”
I say -

Unknowing
of what lies ahead.

Weeks go by,
the urge returns.

I must do something fun,
something to numb the pain.

And now -
the snake eats its tail.
Damocles Jun 10
Sinking deep into the carbonated effervescence,
I crave this caffeine fix.
I need the high to mask the sadness that trails my face as I stare into nothingness.
I space out in daydreams,
Wondering if you feel me whenever I blink.

Endorphins bounce off my synapses like a pinball,
And dopamine surges,
Surprising me with clarity.
I can’t recall yesterday,
But I can vividly recall tomorrow today.
Jitters run through me as I write this,
Shaking with a closed fist,
As if the puzzle pieces are trying to break me apart.
Do I even fit?

I yearned for something sweet,
Something to cling to,
Preferably caramel or toffee.
This artificial happiness has me pleading,
And if I were harvested,
There would be taurine in my bleeding.

I’m drowning in a carbonated effervescent ocean,
Anchored by trauma,
Unable to surface past the surface.
It’s deeper than the Atlantic,
And I’m praying for a hurricane to rescue me.
I have a caffeine addiction
neth jones Jun 12
the fails  the falls          actual trips
on the pavement
               flat out  in male heat  whimpering
commandeered    by mating itches
                            you trace the pattern    pursuing your needs
you've probed the city beds                      
     for the love song  some tremor of heart
              but  it becomes more akin to research
lurching through the 'feeding grounds'                      
too many 'successes' and some hard 'romantic' hurts
it becomes numbers                                            
       and used condoms skinned off your member
you do that long enough                                          
                ­  and you've become something criminal
you act the brag   call it 'throwing ****'
                  and imagine it 'the glorified hunt'
your discourse with girls                              
                 power toward vital recitals that 'score'
toss out your heart and suss out 'weaknesses'
(the same weaknesses you loathed                          
                     in your own beginners wounds)
before long you've become a bored and pushy criminal
never quenched
chasing the young with vile deceit
not even a shower between each 'victory'
you daren't bring them to your place anymore
taxi cabs have your address flagged
send up verbal flares        
          to any potential fares
with you   a daring destination
    ***** lair of aggressor ego
mister 'never takes 'no''
****** predator
Soph Jun 8
Until you end it
Or it ends you
It doesn't matter what addiction
It always
Always
Ends the same

It may feel
Like it fills that hole
That endless, empty void inside you
But addiction never
Never
Heals it

It whispers
"You need me"
But it always
Always
Lies

People say
"Just quit"
Like it's nothing
Like it's something
You can stop
In just ten seconds
But stopping is never
Never
Easy

You turn into a broken machine
Don't Work anymore
Without feeding what slowly
Slowly
Kills you

Once you start
It's hard to stop
It slowly
Slowly
Takes over your life
And destroys
Everything you have
Everything you love
Everything.
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