Real men do cry. Saying “real men don’t cry” has always been one of the biggest lies. Real men do cry. This notion isn’t always appealing so men always resort to hiding our feelings.
By Joe Patterson3 years ago in Poets
Was it all in my head? You've left me feeling so confused. Is there someone else you want instead? What did you think once my messages were read?
By Hailey Marchand-Nazzaro3 years ago in Poets
Alexandra was always drowning in An ocean of her relentless weeping. Poor child. Will this sorrow ever end? Alexandra had constantly fallen
By Cat the Autist3 years ago in Poets
Keep out the light or hold the light inside, Folded and falling, tethered by a string; Eyes open, in the darkness, where I hide.
By Jamie LeFebvre 3 years ago in Poets
Oh Christ, I'm fucking hungry For the cigarette days full of black coffee, Tiny little jeans, and horrid aftershave When I was a nail-bitten mess
By Silver Daux3 years ago in Poets
I am dressed for the funeral of my self-respect black from head to toe except the scarf to hide the bruises of your love on my neck.
By TheSpinstress 3 years ago in Poets
Mind scattered, no resting place in sight. Insides reeking of stress, nights shorter and shorter, longer and longer.
By Andie Emerson3 years ago in Poets
We’d rather enjoy our prison of pain Than risk the freedom of love Because we know what the cell feels like Rather than the warmth of their arms
By Atomic Historian3 years ago in Poets
In the realm of verses, I cast no competition's net, No costly entry, no triumph to beget. My finest lines, not hoarded for a laurel crown,
By salem fekry 3 years ago in Poets
In the abyss of shadows, where light refrains, A desolate expanse, where darkness reigns. Entwined in the clutches of the stygian night,
By BrendonJoseph3 years ago in Poets
Sleep in!! you tell yourself before heading to bed You need it, You're crying every day Not from sorrow or loss, from exhausted moves towards the dreams you desire
By Mason Darnielle3 years ago in Poets
My birthday is exactly one month away from today. Every year around this time I start feeling a particular anxiety tied to this fast approaching day. My mind starts filling up with reflective thoughts about my life.
By Lindsey Lugardo3 years ago in Poets
