Mental Health

The Midnight Sky
In the depth of darkness, when day bids goodbye, A canvas spread across , the midnight sky. Twinkling stars, like diamonds above,
By Alecia Harriott2 years ago in Poets
one and only. Content Warning.
he tells me that he loves me but he only says it in the dark only with mystery and danger when we can’t see who we are he tells me that he needs me
By ⸘jason alan‽2 years ago in Poets
we all slum it in the end. Top Story - May 2024.
we all slum it in the end even when we turn dirt to gold refuse to do what we're told turn gold to dirt refuse to do
By Paul Stewart2 years ago in Poets
Inside Out
She hides a hunger That burns like fire Hiding there under A secret desire Igniting the thunder That fans the flames higher
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden2 years ago in Poets
Keys
My keys don’t jingle jangle They’re a tale of tales A web of confusion Sewn to protect what I hold dear A tool A mechanism
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
prey. Content Warning.
you must think i am beautiful or good enough to eat your eyes are on me like two fires but i cant feel the heat i hear a crack in the brush
By Belle2 years ago in Poets
Me and My Present Throne
I've been amazing today I don't need your encouragement anymore I no longer need your support I want to stay forever in this moment
By Nico2 years ago in Poets
Without You
I’ve planned for plenty of things as I’ve gone through my life Parties need guest lists, food, and activities Classes and tests have to be studied for
By E. C. Mira2 years ago in Poets
The Last Resident
This story took place in the spring of 2018, when my friend and I were 21 years old. We had met in high school and bonded over our shared love of outdoor adventure. There's an old railroad-turned-gravel trail that winds through the heavy forests and valleys near our midwestern town for over 10 miles.
By spooky session2 years ago in Poets
Harboring Happiness - Day 4
Today in harboring happiness, I wake to the hound who holds half my heart curled next to me in bed. No other friends to meet today, we snuggle for half an hour. His brother is sprawled on the floor dreaming of chasing birds.
By Sam Eliza Green2 years ago in Poets
The Last Line
I’ve been the last line to many Just another pretty penny A daring glance A lark A shot in the dark A tree that harkens you to rub against its bark
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
Addiction
It was so sweet the pain Until it was not Until the joy turned into a mothrfuckin' drought Drought only relieved With just one
By G. A. Botero2 years ago in Poets