Mental Health

The Crossroads. AI-Generated.
I stand at the edge of the roads that meet, Each one stretching far, uncertain, incomplete. The air is heavy, the silence deep,
By Luciaabout a year ago in Poets
The Mask I Wear. AI-Generated.
The mask I wear fits snug and tight, A shield of smiles in the harshest light. It’s painted bright, with colors that gleam,
By Luciaabout a year ago in Poets
Your Strength, Your Story
No one's harm to you will make you grow and make you stronger. You don't need to thank the person who hurt you. Their hurt can only prove that they are very bad. Why should you thank them? You got through it yourself, and you only need to thank yourself.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharingabout a year ago in Poets
She's nowhere near.. Top Story - December 2024.
*PLEASE LISTEN TO THE SOUND WHILE YOU READ MY STORY ;)* ~ Last night, I had a beautiful dream. The air was thicker than usual, and I was holding onto something that was never there.
By Kodahabout a year ago in Poets
Rhythm
Feel the air, soft and steady, drawing in, releasing out— a tender rhythm, ancient, true. Pause here, where earth cradles your step,
By Printique Studiosabout a year ago in Poets
Infinite Sheep
As lightning strikes my thunder cloud eyelids, dreams laden with heavy rain repeat reels I reason keep me sane. Gathering grains of silicon sleep,
By Ashley McMahonabout a year ago in Poets
Wonder
I hate how I wonder I wonder about how people are really doing I wonder if someone misses me I wonder how my life would be if I didn’t do substances
By A.poems about a year ago in Poets
In the Graveyard that I've Filled. Content Warning.
Does this feeling of self loathing ever truly go away? Or do you learn to live with all the disgusting, selfish, fucked up parts of yourself? If you do, does that make you worse, more degraded? More disgusting. More selfish. More fucked up. Is chronic self awareness with no action a flaw? Knowing all your bad parts and hating them but not changing them seems like a flaw.
By Ainselabout a year ago in Poets
Doing
What doing may do to me, Is something thought cannot reveal. A deal of giving for the right to be, And the spirit to want to feel.
By Rachel Steinmetzabout a year ago in Poets
The Painted Me
The Painted Me Beneath the checkered veil of guise, A mask reflects the world’s reprise. My lips curve bright, my laughter plays,
By Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
The Marks Of Love
My heart races with no where to go bleeding desires, like strawberries in snow Staining the ground and the places it touches
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsdenabout a year ago in Poets
Misery Martyr . Top Story - December 2024.
Misery sure loves company but I will be declining the invitation. My joy is not something to be hijacked by envious folks reliant on intimidation.
By Josey Pickeringabout a year ago in Poets