Mental Health

The Shapes of Your Scars
Never hide your scars from me. They take nothing from your beauty. They are reminders of your strength. Most of your scars can’t be seen.
By Jesse Lee6 months ago in Poets
HippoChristians!. Content Warning.
They say don't talk! Hush but follow the Jesus Christ walk. They say We know! Theology they claime a bodily love. They say
By Diana6 months ago in Poets
Panic
It starts within her fragile chest a weight that will not let her rest Her heart protests with aching sound yet nowhere safe can now be found
By Abi Rose Travis6 months ago in Poets
Rhyme
In the approach of serious matters, rhyme is a distraction that only clatters hollow, noisy emphasis on endings, even if it causes the middle’s rending.
By Harper Lewis 6 months ago in Poets
the surroundings breathe
The vast surroundings breathe beautiful, soft, gasping breaths the air settling gently into the black atmosphere, low clouds rolling, early in pregnancy
By Reece Beckett6 months ago in Poets
The Nights The Lights Are Out
The streetlamp’s amber glow returns, steady as a promise, its light a compass for the wandering, the weary, the brave. Together you paint new verses on the city’s skin—
By Forest Green7 months ago in Poets
The Nights the Lights Are Out
A house made of steel‑bones and winding alleys, where laughter once rang like a subway’s hymn, you felt the sudden hush of a shuttered storefront—
By Forest Green7 months ago in Poets
Cold Quiet Dip Before Sleep
Cold Quiet Dip Before Sleep Ice waits in the white bath, still as a held breath, A woman lowers herself slowly, testing the silence of water.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 7 months ago in Poets
Darkness is the Man
I. Darkness is the man who doesn’t know himself. The one who think he stands in the light with a foot planted on the edge
By Dean Traylor7 months ago in Poets
The Shape of Safety
I dream of being held. My head on someone’s chest, listening to their heartbeat. Their hands in my hair, not to escalate, but to comfort and ground me. A moment of real peace. Where I don’t have to be strong. Where I can just exist and be held. I would breathe them in and fall asleep in their arms.
By Alicia Melnick 7 months ago in Poets
I am worth it now
One random morning After years of dull darkness I am worth it now.
By Susan Fourtané 7 months ago in Poets
I Carry My Trauma Quietly
I carry my trauma quietly. Not like a flag. Not like a war drum. It lives in the corners of my mind, where sunlight never reaches.
By Shoaib Afridi7 months ago in Poets