Mental Health

The Ascent
The shadows cling, they pull me down, A heavy cloak, a stifling gown. My breath grows short, my vision blurs, A symphony of whispered fears.
By Aima Charle9 months ago in Poets
"Swimming with Anxiety"
The cool, inviting blue I see, A silent promise, wild and free. But 'neath the surface, shadows creep, Secrets that my heart will keep.
By Aima Charle9 months ago in Poets
The Dot, The Spot
The Dot, The Spot It started with a dot, a nothing thought, on Tuesday’s sock, a witches plot it blinked, it stank, it maybe spoke,
By Marie381Uk 9 months ago in Poets
Not For Likes
Is it dark enough? Is it light enough? Is it felt? At least it is real! Real-life feelings Not always dark Not always light
By L.I.E9 months ago in Poets
Can We Truly Embrace the Inevitable Dance of Time?
Time requires you to let wrinkles form on your face together with natural white hair develop on your head. Time continues its passage unceasingly and it keeps moving along the timeline of everyone without exception. Keep your mind open to natural occurrences because you should release all feelings of resistance. Your countenance will not endure time's effects because it must represent all life's happiness and grief.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing9 months ago in Poets
Where Did All The Happy Go?
was i ever good enough how do i compete with that a faker when things get too rough i'm getting old and getting fat my best ain't what it used to be
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden9 months ago in Poets
Self-Love is a Rebellion
In a world that often demands perfection, self-love becomes a radical act of defiance. This poem is a battle cry for anyone tired of hiding their flaws and ready to embrace every jagged edge with fierce pride. Self-love is not gentle, it’s rebellion.
By Zainoo9 months ago in Poets
Anxiety’s Whisper
We all carry voices inside us, some nurturing, others fearful. This poem explores an intimate, internal conversation with anxiety. Not as a villain, but as a misunderstood part of us, begging to be heard.
By Zainoo9 months ago in Poets
Whispers of Eleanor
In quiet halls and whispered tales, you walked with courage, fierce and pale, a queen of thought, a voice untamed, Eleanor—remembered name.
By Get Rich9 months ago in Poets
Mirrors of the Mind
Shifting shapes dissolve in whispers, colors bleed beyond the edges, time folds like paper cranes in a room that never settles.
By Get Rich9 months ago in Poets
Whispers of the Forest
Leaves murmur secrets in the soft afternoon breeze, sunlight filters through branches, dancing like gentle waves on a quiet sea.
By Get Rich9 months ago in Poets
The Last Summer Fair
A small town’s fading tradition sparks an unexpected reunion The air in Willow Creek, Ohio, smelled like cotton candy and engine grease, the kind of scent that could only mean one thing: the county fair was back. For as long as anyone could remember, the fair had been the heartbeat of summer, a week when the town shook off its quiet and came alive with lights, laughter, and the promise of something magical. But in the summer of 2025, the fair was different. Word had spread that this might be its last year, a casualty of budget cuts and a world that didn’t seem to care about small-town traditions anymore.
By Shohel Rana9 months ago in Poets