Mental Health

She is a Garden
She is a garden— not just a patch of earth, but a wild, wondrous haven where magic takes birth. She’s learned to shovel through the debris,
By Annie Edwards about a year ago in Poets
The Thoughts I Hide
I've become too familiar with this darkness inside a cool manipulator of the "me" I provide I say just what you want, the very moment it suits you
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsdenabout a year ago in Poets
Not for the Likes
It began with a grin. A sun-kissed selfie taken at a precise angle with the caption, "Monday blues, but make it fashion." In seven seconds, the first like was received. Then fifty. Next, 300. She felt noticed. confirmed. Nearly... deserving. But the girl who had hardly slept was hiding behind that flawless pout and meticulously manicured glow. who wondered why she wasn't enough after spending hours looking through other people's highlight reels. who, fearing that bloating would ruin her figure for the next bikini photo, hadn't eaten a full meal in two days. This was no longer for amusement. The purpose of this was not to connect. This was not a creative exercise. This was war, a battleground of approval on the internet. Every post was a weapon, every post was like life support, and she was fighting. -- These days, being visible is valuable. where your value is frequently determined by the hearts on your picture, the number of people who view your reel, and the remarks you receive from strangers who will judge your smile, skin, and soul. People advise you to "just be yourself." But when the algorithm doesn't like you being yourself, how do you "be yourself"? Raw cannot be sold. Tears are not in style. No one shares stretch marks. Sponsorships don't come from authenticity.
By Tousif Arafatabout a year ago in Poets
Is It The Thought That Really Counts
I feel like the landlord Who’s left paying the rent I could fill up some billboards With things I've left unsaid I cook, do the laundry
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsdenabout a year ago in Poets
What’s Left
Aren't we all a little "crazy" don't we tilt left, on the level We've become numb to the amazing falling victim to the devil
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsdenabout a year ago in Poets
Emotionless Survival
Cold on the outside but warm on the inside Emotionless are the most emotional Emotions are kept inside Put others feelings before their own
By L.I.Eabout a year ago in Poets
Nebula Dreams
Breathe in— the hush of light gathering at the edge of thought. Breathe out— release the weight you did not know you carried.
By Printique Studiosabout a year ago in Poets
The Silence Beneath Her Smile
In the heart of a quiet little town, Lived a girl who never wore a frown. Her eyes sparkled like summer skies, But no one knew they masked her cries. Her name was Alina. A name the town adored. To her classmates, she was sunshine— Always the first to cheer others forward. She danced through hallways with grace, Left laughter in every place. But each smile she gave was borrowed light, Stolen from stars she lost at night. At home, the walls whispered pain, A father drunk, a mother drained. No warmth in hugs, no gentle care, Just silence thick and heavy air. She wrote in journals she hid away, Telling pages what she couldn’t say. A world inside where she could scream, Where ink became her fragile dream. > “Why does no one see the ache? The mask I wear begins to break. I’m drowning in a sea so wide, Yet everyone says, ‘You’re glowing inside!’” In school, she helped others shine, Their broken parts she’d intertwine. She carried their burdens on her back, While her soul quietly cracked. “Alina, you're so strong,” they’d say. “You’re the reason I get through each day.” She’d nod and beam that perfect smile, And walk away, breaking inside all the while. > “They see me as a light to follow, But inside I am empty, hollow. My voice is fading with each breath, I carry the weight of quiet death.” One winter’s evening, the stars stood still, As though the sky had sensed a chill. Alina’s room was neat, bed made tight, A candle burned soft, a final light. On her desk lay a single page— A whisper from a silent cage: > “To those I loved but could not show, I wanted you to truly know— Behind the joy I gave away, My heart was slowly swept away. I smiled so you wouldn’t see, The storms that lived inside of me. I helped you fly, though I had no wings, I gave you songs, while breaking strings. If only one had asked me twice, Looked beyond my practiced ice— Perhaps a hand, a touch, a word, Could’ve caught the pain unheard. But it’s okay—don’t cry for me, I’m finally where my soul is free.” They found her there, a faded flame, Too late to whisper back her name. The town fell still, their joy undone, For the girl who smiled at everyone. The school planted a tree in her name, But the wind never spoke the same. And though seasons come and flowers bloom, Her absence echoes through every room. Now in that town when someone smiles, They pause and look a little while. For they’ve learned from Alina’s fall— Even those who laugh may have it all… …except the strength to make one call.
By TrueVocalabout a year ago in Poets
Hiding in the Shadows
The hospital visit goes the same as it has before She starts screaming when she sees me come through the door Mom was never like this, not until the day she saw the thing
By Sam Plankabout a year ago in Poets
Consider the Ant
She’s not a daydream— she’s a craftsman, a chef, a gardener. She doesn’t do it for show. Nor is she a showstopper— Like the dragonfly, or grasshopper,
By Natasha Collazoabout a year ago in Poets
Fly High. Top Story - June 2025.
Broken is the heart that feels the unending torment of grief, the constant banging of tears flowing down to the soul of a very being,
By Angel Adagioabout a year ago in Poets
Detonate. Content Warning.
Don't take there Where the memories are so bare Please don't take me there Where I'm scared Where there's so much despair
By CotardDelusionzabout a year ago in Poets