Mental Health

The Climate I live in
I’ve learned to track the weather inside my own mind the way sailors track tides — not with fear, not with denial, but with a practiced, unsentimental awareness. There are three states my brain moves through, three distinct atmospheric shifts that shape the rhythm of my days. I don’t control them. I don’t summon them. I don’t negotiate with them. I recognize them.
By Elisa Wontorcik11 months ago in Poets
Blue Hour Truths
At blue hour the city softens edges blur, sirens feel farther away, and even my mistakes look… survivable. ﹁﹂ I take the long way home
By Milan Milic11 months ago in Poets
Small Mercies
My bank account hit that quiet number that makes you stop breathing for a second. Not zero, but close enough to taste it.
By Milan Milic11 months ago in Poets
Salesman. Top Story - January 2026.
He wakes up, cold. Shifts out of bed, shirt on, tie tied, tired. Cracking teeth brushed after a meagre breakfast. Two hour commute
By Reece Beckett11 months ago in Poets
28 Struggle
Fair Warning: this may be a sob story Edit: it is a sob story This may have been the most depressing New Years "celebration" I've gone through in my 28 years of living.
By Donny Foley11 months ago in Poets
For The Best. Content Warning.
Maybe it's for the best that I can't write out my own dreams‐ maybe then, I'd finally find peace and not my way back to reality...
By JM11 months ago in Poets
One Day At A Time II
The colors around me have been faded lately and my shoulders have felt much more weighted... waiting around for an end‐ I'd much rather drown than learn to swim...
By JM11 months ago in Poets
Decisions That Make Us
People swear change arrives in January, wrapped in fresh calendars and clean promises, in vision boards pinned with borrowed dreams,
By Hannah Lambert11 months ago in Poets
Virtuous. Top Story - January 2026.
They wanted her to drown... Instead, she chose to breathe it in. They wanted her to fail. Instead, she chose to win. 🏆 🌸
By Sara Wilson11 months ago in Poets
The Hidden Bruise
I did not notice the bruise at first. It lived under my skin like a secret with good manners. ﹁﹂ Love, I thought, was supposed to be tender,
By Milan Milic11 months ago in Poets
The Quiet Power of Becoming
In a world that scrolls faster than our breath, I choose to pause— to listen to the quiet courage beating softly inside ordinary hearts.
By Waqar Khan11 months ago in Poets
Be My Neverland
Take me to a place like Neverland, A fun place where I never have to be a man, Where I can jump and run and fight for fun,
By Jesse Lee11 months ago in Poets