afraid to be me afraid of rejection happiness taught to be unattainable I never knew it though until he sliced with uncanny ability
By Colleen Walters9 months ago in Poets
fixate on your feed. every indulgence, every prayer knotted. a chewed ball of meat. * chase rest resolve and relief until joy feels nostalgic.
By DJ Nuclear Winter9 months ago in Poets
The oil leak still stains the mud. I dig the dirt and put it to one side, building a pile to be quietly proud of. The worms find a freedom, the
By Reece Beckett9 months ago in Poets
βSix-Sevenβ The first question is always the same: βHow have you been?β People rarely answer it. Instead they circle it,
By Teena Quinn 9 months ago in Poets
Drowning in the possibility of a setback being karma in disguise, The fight between optimism and anxiety that lies between the eyes,
By Bailey Andrew9 months ago in Poets
My office is a square of borrowed light, a camera angle, a chair, a voice saying, βCan you hear me?β and everything that follows.
People think moods are simple. Happy. Sad. Angry. Calm. Mine have never been simple. Living with borderline personality disorder feels like living without emotional skin. Everything touches me too deeply. A text left on read feels like abandonment. A small shift in tone sounds like goodbye.
By Jasmine 9 months ago in Poets
I used to hide my scars like bad grades, pull sleeves down, change the subject, laugh too loud So nobody noticed where Iβve been.
By Milan Milic9 months ago in Poets
words, they make their lodging in cabins in my snowy head. words, at times, they look scrupulously delicious and definitely indelibly delightful
By Rowan Finley 9 months ago in Poets
commercialism- economically communicable. (Note- Is this true or false? Does it make sense one way or another? Please comment.)
By Mark Graham9 months ago in Poets
They say never to hold onto anger To never keep it inside How true that is But you must be careful Anger is a fragile thing
By Jasmine Aguilar9 months ago in Poets
Maybe the world ended quietly in twenty-twenty's air, Not with fire or sound, just a shift no one could repair. Time lost its rhythm, the clock learned to bend,
By V9 months ago in Poets
