Mental Health

I am a curse. Content Warning.
My body is full of curses I am brown and dead like dried-out dirt. I have lips as a snare and eyes of an innocent whore.
By Angel Blade10 months ago in Poets
No Hidden AI Just My Own Poems
No Hidden AI Just My Own Poems Some say kindly, You write so many poems. Maybe six or eight a day? it’s just my way. They ask,
By Marie381Uk 10 months ago in Poets
A Dream
When days are dark I dream of Spring of fields lush with songbirds singing trees in bloom and flowers swaying
By Matthew J. Fromm10 months ago in Poets
Drowning. Top Story - April 2025.
Head above water, is all I can ask for... Reaching out for help, with no answer... Life isn’t as simple as they made it seem.
By Christina Vanhaerents10 months ago in Poets
The Colors and Christophanies
To you, Old Glory, I find myself turned, in days ever more strange, Wondering, in the shifting wind, when did the colors start to change?
By Gabriel Huizenga10 months ago in Poets
Vocal.Media is broken Again?
Vocal.Media Is Broken Again? I wasn’t asking for a lot, No fame, no prize, no golden shot. Just to log in, take a look,
By Marie381Uk 10 months ago in Poets
Was Wine Always This Sweet?
When I was a child, I thought wine was bitter, so I wondered why adults loved to drink it so much. Time tells us we are past the age of unreasonable behavior, and it is time to be sensible.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing10 months ago in Poets
Poe’tess
She re-visits the room where roses are dead and violets never bloomed. ————————————————————— Authors Note: Plaths Collected Poems were published in 1981, which included previously unpublished works. For this collection she was awarded a Pulitzer Prize in Poetry in 1982 after her she succumbed to death by suicide in 1963.
By Natasha Collazo10 months ago in Poets
Perspective
For the first time in a long time, there exists what feels like glow coming from my chest. It's hard to describe in so many words, but it's a good thing.
By BrettNotGreg10 months ago in Poets
Psychopath
The man thinks he is a patriarch, a savior. But he is actually a psychopath — unhealed, oozing trauma,
By Seema Patel10 months ago in Poets
Writing Brings Peace
As long as I get to write what I want, I feel lucky and rich. Human beings want to be seen, to be heard, to be acknowledged,
By Seema Patel10 months ago in Poets
Let The Worriers Worry
Let the Worriers Worry Let the worriers worry. Let them pace holes into carpets, counting hours like rosary beads while their minds unravel in whispers.
By Marie381Uk 10 months ago in Poets