Mental Health
I heard you on the 13th summer
The summer solstice came with intensity. My body tilted towards the sun. I felt the warmth of doubt hugging me. The 13th summer of tragedy couldn't remember me? Many waves I've seen, many times I begged in the silent wind. The sound of the ocean whispers at times, or I thought it did. Familiar voices heard my tragedy, voices with empty boats. The summer tragedy stopped my heartbeat. My body was anatomy. The sea whispered, "I heard you on the 13th summer." I travel to find the flesh to cherish your broken shells. Summer is fresh and unknown to the flesh. It is salty and warms my body with the heat of his pain. The intensity of our pain was perfectly paired with the earth at the summer solstice. The return of the heartbeat with a pitter and pounding effect of raindrops soaking us and drowning us in boundless love of eternity.
By Johana Torresabout a year ago in Poets
A Morning Day in the Life of the Pink Lady
A Morning Day in the Life of the Pink Lady This isn’t just a day, it’s a sonic diary wrapped in pink sheets and browser haze. Welcome to the myth of the Pink Lady. This is partly truth and fiction in The Pink Series.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli about a year ago in Poets
The forgotten
I finally lost what I've been fighting for today the remembrance of you is all that remains and that's until my memory begins it's end Some parts of you were irreplaceable to me like the ashes of my father In a glass heart And my great grandmother's golden locket These I shall never forget That is where I find solace I could have found a way to save you to keep you around for safe keeping but something odd struck me deeply I had been so afraid of losing all of you telling myself I could in no way survive it and the truth is when I said that it felt true Then the question came to the surface, was holding onto you actually helping me? The knowing answer was one I didn't like Yes, a few cherished things sat all wrapped up in pieces of old news, in their own special boxes, but around them were miles of tears to rediscover Old wounds not yet fully healed, barely scars Seeing your faces again would take me down more than the ghost stating your absence For a long time I felt like I deserved the pain then I felt like holding our moments helped but finding old photos proved me very wrong The failure seeped into my core, rotting away at the only small pieces of good memories left You have become both blessing and curse Like a snake eating its tail until its fated end this sickening cycle has kept me on its ride faking my death pretending you were my life But today I let go of the rope of desperation to keep some semblance of you near me Today I chose my future, the past not defining.
By Tressa Roseabout a year ago in Poets
Winds of fate. Content Warning.
How long can one lay on the brink of life or death before the choice is taken away? Losing you made me lose the will to live I debated it honestly the reaper testing me I was close once a little bit too close standing on a ledge tip-toed testing waters Looking down below seeing the people scurry like small ants having a purpose Brink of insanity closing my eyes letting the wind choose my fate
By Tressa Roseabout a year ago in Poets
