Mental Health

Save me
There is something that is amiss, I can feel it in my bones. I have voices in my head, Painting a nightmare on my soul,
By Simran Danielabout a year ago in Poets
A Shy Fighter
I can be demure Yeah very shy Because people in this world don’t treat you right Don't like drawing attention to myself because their standard for me is at a greater height
By L.I.Eabout a year ago in Poets
Tales of Torment: Survival Tactics
as another day goes by, another tale of torment is written‐ with what other way can i get by? there's nothing else i have, nothing within
By Josh Morganabout a year ago in Poets
Owl
Onward predator Whipping through the silent air Lapping up its prey Thank you for reading my work. If you enjoyed this story, there’s more below. Please hit the like and subscribe button, you can follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram @AtomicHistorian. To help me create more content, leave a tip or become a pledged subscriber. I also make stickers, t-shirts, etc here.
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
You Don't Own Me
My body is a temple, they say yet it's only something everyone wants to come in and enjoy, but if I hide my body, I'm not worth the attention.
By Angel Adagioabout a year ago in Poets
Waves of Darkness
The shroud of darkness comes again, quietly cloaking my skin, soaking into every breath, like a wave crashing then retreating,
By Erin Perezabout a year ago in Poets
scratches in my mind - streams of dreams and anxieties
when thoughts flow upstream as dreams, we try to catch; hold worries flow downstream * Thanks for reading! Author's Notes: Here is another entry into my long-running senryu series "scratches in my mind". I really should do a pillar post thing for it so I can gather them all together.
By Paul Stewartabout a year ago in Poets
A tale of self belief
h to cease to exist, to hide my essence and to dive deep, Under the peonies of the stillness of darkness under the waters of sleep.
By Hridya Sharmaabout a year ago in Poets
The Game We Play
For this poem, I choose, Chris Isaak’s some “Wicked Game” from his record “Heart Shaped World” , to be the inspiration for this poem.
By Daphsamabout a year ago in Poets
Impermanence and Acceptance
In other words, you cannot sustain success, and you also cannot sustain failure – there are no sustainable highs or lows. True strength is in memory, as well as in erasing; in forgiving, and in embracing the transience of things; in solitude, restraint; in submitting to impotence; in being imperfect; and in admitting one’s anguish, panic, guilt, and remorse.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharingabout a year ago in Poets
Time Gets Away
We are all bound by that ring of numbers All constrained to 24 hours Will we use it all or let it waste away / None can out run it or escape it’s grasp
By Thomas Terryabout a year ago in Poets
To My Sleep Paralysis Demon
You stand on the stairs not making a sound and the wicked crack of your teeth as you carve out a frown leave shivers and timbers running like ice in my veins
By Connieabout a year ago in Poets