When pride is stronger than your willingness Fear overtakes you easily Fear of mistakes Fear of shame Fear of seeing incapable
By L.I.E10 months ago in Poets
Some nights The body forgets it is a body. and remembers it is sky. All the dark patches, the places where the world landed too hard,
By Milan Milic10 months ago in Poets
Light sketches shadows, captive in its sway, and slowly runs its pale fingers along… The world is still not ordered into place,
By Mariana Busarova10 months ago in Poets
Some roads aren’t on paper. They run along skin, raised and silvered, etched by survival, charted without consent. There’s a scar on my knee
By Bea Button10 months ago in Poets
This is not a confession. It is a correction. This is not guilt. It’s grief metabolized into rhythm. I didn’t leave I was locked out.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 10 months ago in Poets
Don’t say everything is going to be okay When it’s only okay for a little while Happiness quickly goes away In just a minute the smile turns into a frown
The dam usually breaks at night. Rarely, ever does it occur in the daylight. But if it’s during the day, then Billie Eilish is singing “What Was I Made For.”
By Rowan Finley 10 months ago in Poets
Is it really possible To be happy more than sad Is it possible To have more peace than struggle Is it possible To live with joy rather than depression
I used to think gathering was only about holding on— hands full, pockets stretched, heart tired from the weight of what I refused to release.
By Marcus Hill10 months ago in Poets
Tap. Tap. Tap. Craaaaaaack! Hear that? That's the sound of a shell shattering with the secrets it held inside. Primary color of fear, what say you of what you find here?
By Maia Gadwall the metAlchemist10 months ago in Poets
A burden, annoyance, worthless, and embarrassing. The words, the looks, the treatment, the feeling… The poison merged with my soul deeply and thoroughly.
By Marysol Ramos10 months ago in Poets
I write you in the shade the mirror saves for after-hours— The color stores call cherry, the kind my mouth calls courage. The page is a small white room.
