Mental Health

temporary taxidermy. Winner in Poetry of the Hunt Challenge.
My hippocampus has a leak in it, and every step I take spills out a form of you I’m forced to relive. It’s more languid,
By Daniel K4 months ago in Poets
Scenery of Society by Rikki La Rouge 🇬🇧 🇨🇦
Julio, every summer you come back and make me relive these tortuous memories. Julio, do you remember the day you almost drowned? I do. Julio, I can't escape your punishment. Julio, I want to know why you cursed me. July, I remember our difficult times before July, when we couldn't start again.
By Revista XCI by Rikki La Rouge 4 months ago in Poets
Honey on the Wound
Honey on the Wound You said the truth would sting at first—then sweeten where it should, So lay it bare, then breathe it in: put honey on the wound.
By Milan Milic4 months ago in Poets
Drum God. Runner-Up in Poetry of the Hunt Challenge. Content Warning.
Our hands enmesh. Heartbeats sync. Thump— thump—thump— Minds shift toward a higher gear. // // Already, our world tunnels—
By Corvus4 months ago in Poets
Bred By a Hand Not Raised. Top Story - November 2025.
I was born with a low IQ, I am a page whose text was worn through. My mind's a palimpsest, a fading script, the vital history that was skipped. I grew up hardened by sorrow's pain, bred and burdened by a hand not raised.
By Caitlin Charlton4 months ago in Poets
pray/prey
this is not another mournful poem lamenting the way my mind rushes to flush joy from the system . no, no this is my search
By Leigh Victoria Phan, MS, MFA4 months ago in Poets
Moving Images Of Madness
Apply masks Reveal the flasks Schedule a monstrous task Act like a hunk Get drunk Fight with a punk
By Marc OBrien4 months ago in Poets
Quarry
what do I endeavor to find; what is my long-sought grail? it is but this: I hunt for a hunt pressing through ceaseless gale.
By Gabriel Huizenga4 months ago in Poets
Your Shadow’s Echo
Your Shadow’s Echo I met your shadow on the brick; it kept your measured stride, a midnight twin that knew the tricks of leaving at my side.
By Milan Milic4 months ago in Poets
Landslide
I am sick of myself. Of the thoughts rattling around The inside of my head like ready-made bombs Eager to destroy whatever sense of pride might bloom.
By Silver Daux4 months ago in Poets
A Street Called Yesterday
A Street Called Yesterday There’s a street that time forgot to map, Its lamps still glow a yellow hue, The cobbles hum beneath your steps,
By Marie381Uk 4 months ago in Poets
Salted Hallelujah
Salted Hallelujah I kept my praise in jars of brine, a hush beneath the blue, a hymn that stung the tongue to sing, but still it wanted through.
By Milan Milic4 months ago in Poets