Mental Health

In/out
"They listen to my voice" Hearing and speech. Ear and lip of aliens. Pre Duet Pre Dialogue Monologue Intermezzo… Body language
By Diana8 months ago in Poets
Descendant Victor
She always love completely And only trusts in part Each time that she has trusted They broke her bleeding heart So, she buries her true nature
By Maili Paul8 months ago in Poets
Intentionally Unintentional
I didn’t plan the breakthrough. Didn’t circle it on a calendar or chant it into being. It came like most holy things do—
By Marcus Hill8 months ago in Poets
Inner Silence Broken By Depression
Inner Silence Broken By Depression A hollow ache that fills the day, A weight that never leaves, Where light once danced,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 8 months ago in Poets
Lights Blossom
Light was never meant to scream. It’s not a performance, it’s a patience— a waiting for eyes to adjust to what has always been.
By Marcus Hill8 months ago in Poets
The Clutter in My Mind
The Clutter in My Mind Why do we hoard the clutter in our heads? Why do we let it crawl inside our hearts, play with our emotions,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 8 months ago in Poets
Slow Motion
Chapter 7 The slowing doesn’t arrive like a warning. It arrives like a thickening — a quiet shift in the internal physics of my body and mind. After the dimming, after the weight, after the quicksand, everything begins to move at a different speed. Not the world — me.
By Elisa Wontorcik8 months ago in Poets
The Mirror Lie
The mirror used to be a judge, cold-robed, unimpressed, waiting for me to confess I didn’t deserve to be seen. ﹁﹂ I’d stand there with wet hair
By Milan Milic8 months ago in Poets
Damaged Goods, That’s What She Is
Damaged Goods, That’s What She Is They say she’s trouble, best left alone, A heart made hard, a voice like stone. But they don’t see what’s underneath,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 8 months ago in Poets
Interests!
There is no Love the power of being is . There is no life but dream is living . There is no substance just spirit
By Diana8 months ago in Poets
Twenty Years
Twenty years since the second time I packed my life into a rucksack and taught my heart how to beat quieter. The first war took my innocence—
By Edward Val8 months ago in Poets
The Dimming
Chapter Six The dimming doesn’t arrive like a switch being flipped. It arrives like a slow eclipse — gradual, creeping, almost imperceptible until the light is already gone.
By Elisa Wontorcik8 months ago in Poets