Mental Health

The Body Forgets, The Soul Remembers
The Body Forgets, The Soul Remembers Health is a fragile kingdom. Some days the gates stay open, others they close without warning.
By Marie381Uk 4 months ago in Poets
a simple resignation. Content Warning.
skip the far-fetched i've heard it all before and i feel horrible that you heard it from me first i can see right through
By ⸘jason alan‽4 months ago in Poets
Homeless
A few weeks ago a homeless man offered me some food Sandwiches, still wrapped Still cold Fresh from the deli They looked good
By Sam Spinelli4 months ago in Poets
Hunting the Past
Heart beats race like hart's hooves A clattering of karatin shoes Raining from a skull-cap grooved Desperately, I hunt for clues
By K.B. Silver 4 months ago in Poets
If You Stay
Dear Sara, I must hit you with the hardest truth you've yet to swallow. Would you continue making footsteps if you knew a future daughter may follow?
By Sara Wilson4 months ago in Poets
A Domestic Regret. Runner-Up in Villanelle of Regret Challenge. Content Warning.
Not once did he ever admit to my abuse He, the "stand-up" family man Insecurity, history, equals not an excuse ~ My deepest regret: I didn't cut him loose
By Marilyn Glover4 months ago in Poets
Journey to Happiness: Encounters and Departures
Not all companionship is a result of love; sometimes, it's simply a way to combat loneliness. Similarly, not all departures are malicious. People who leave also desire and pursue their own happiness.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing4 months ago in Poets
The Killer Knows Haiku
The Killer Knows Haiku A Psycho killer Feeds on fear and death, drinks tears party on fresh flesh
By Marie381Uk 4 months ago in Poets
Through the Blood That Flows
Through the Blood That Flows Something moves within my veins, A quiet rhythm soft and deep, It hums beneath the skin I wear,
By Marie381Uk 4 months ago in Poets
Wrists
He didn't check my wrists because he was worried about me. He checked my wrists because he was afraid of what they'd think of him
By Belle4 months ago in Poets
Wee Hours of Dark
Peaking forbidden Unseen welcome others not And yet here I am...
By Pōlani Monderen 4 months ago in Poets
Ashes in My Pockets
Ashes in My Pockets I leave the house lighter, But only because I’m carrying less fire. In my coat—two small furnaces
By Milan Milic4 months ago in Poets