Rotten, ripping, rolling rumble Waves rolling in my ears, crashing, stumbling Blood like dripping from my eyes Nostrils
By Bethany Roche2 years ago in Poets
The forest came to talk to us today… It was cloudy (It is cloudy) We were listening, you were telling me: . “In cloudy days like this,
By Laura Rodben2 years ago in Poets
Struggling to breathe, The air squeezed from my lungs, My chest tightens with each attempt. I can't focus, I can't function,
By Zsofia Meszaros2 years ago in Poets
So…sure is wet out. Don't do that Don't do what? Talk about the weather? Don't pretend like either of us cares about mundane shit.
By Obsidian Words2 years ago in Poets
The scars of pain run deep, etched into my soul like cuts from a blade, each mark a reminder of past mistakes, a constant shadow cast over my days.
By Noonaj2 years ago in Poets
One thing that's as certain as your birth is your death. I've heard this philosophical shibboleth. I’m counting down minutes. I’m counting down breaths.
By Kristen Balyeat2 years ago in Poets
The stake of existence in its tale binds the beauty of the true, The theft of commodification of invaded privacy hid the Bane of silence under its sinew
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Poets
My mind flies around you. I don't know what's wrong with you. In your lap of happiness The drowning mind is swimming every day.
By Rony Sutradar2 years ago in Poets
Brain: Have you Excelled today? Heart: No, I am trying to stay away. I am trying to rest. Brain: Rest is a luxury you must forgo. You are not even giving your best!
By Jess S2 years ago in Poets
There was a lot to say There was a ton to say. There was a lot to express and cherish that day. The way was to go, in the event that you had come two days sooner.
In the quiet of my mind, whispers rise and fall, A symphony of shadows, a silent call. The highs that lift me to the skies so vast, The lows that plunge me deep, where light is cast.
By Tracy Toccara2 years ago in Poets
A loud noise, the look on someones face, a crowded room. I can’t breathe. Walking on eggshells? No. I am the egg. Fragile, and very quickly coming unglued.
By BrettNotGreg2 years ago in Poets
