Mental Health

We the Wall
I heard something that stuck in my head, as so many things do Among the useless and trivial, the line that stood out to me
By Paul Stewart7 months ago in Poets
He Bit Into the Apple
He Bit Into the Apple He bit into the apple, the maggots tasted vile, the skin still shining, red with guile. He spat it out, but not in shame,
By Marie381Uk 7 months ago in Poets
He Cut Off My Long Hair
He Cut Off My Long Hair He cut off my long hair said it was too wild, too free said men stared, and he was tired of sharing me
By Marie381Uk 7 months ago in Poets
Part 2 – Echoes of What I Couldn’t Say
Now the nights feel longer still, As silence bends against my will I speak in dreams where no one hears, And wake up tasting quiet chill
By Emma 7 months ago in Poets
Part 1-The Weight of Unsaid Words
In every breath, a voice suppressed, A silent storm inside my chest I smiled when I should've cried, I stayed when I should've left
By Emma 7 months ago in Poets
In the Silence of My Soul
In the silence of my soul, I hide my pain Washing memories in the midnight rain Every heartbeat whispers your sweet name But love, it seems, is not a fair game
By Emma 7 months ago in Poets
Between Two Worlds
Caught between two worlds It becomes harder to find your people. the many nights are never spent In ways worth all the while
By Eric Pon7 months ago in Poets
Caught in the Middle
I’ve always been ripping pages From the journal of my life I write and I erase my thoughts I try to renew myself. I try to wake up
By vijay sam7 months ago in Poets
The room #2
The ceiling fan hums steadily in the dim room. A window, half-closed, lets in thin moonlight. He sits on the chair, shoes still caked with dirt.
By vijay sam7 months ago in Poets
The Road Not Taken
Life is a journey filled with crossroads — moments where we must make decisions that shape who we become. One such profound metaphor was beautifully captured by American poet Robert Frost in his timeless poem, "The Road Not Taken." This poem is more than just a reflection on walking through a yellow wood; it is a symbolic journey through human decision-making, regret, and the personal impact of choosing one path over another.
By Reality Broo7 months ago in Poets
Bones of Silence: A Starved Cry from Palestine
His ribs are not ribs— they are prayers unspoken, etched into skin by hands that never fed him, by days that stretched longer than war.
By Mahmood Afridi7 months ago in Poets
Ten Instructions for Disappearing. Content Warning.
Ten Instructions for Disappearing I. Relinquish what you called yourself at birth — Names on leashes dragged across this dire Earth.
By Diana Frankhauser7 months ago in Poets