Mental Health

Spiraling
Spiraling into the labyrinth that is overthinking. Going down a rabbit hole into the void. My thoughts stretch through hallways
By Felix McCann7 days ago in Poets
All according to plan
Nothing is going like I planned. I feel the anxiety trying to twist me into knots - the urge to control - A deep need in my gut.
By Felix McCann7 days ago in Poets
The Silence Of Sorrow
Introduction While I was aware of Kim Poor, I didn't know she was such a brilliant artist with a vast amount of work which you can check out on her site here.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 8 days ago in Poets
Message in a bottle
When I was infected, I cupped my hands around my terror, lips toward the earth, spine toward the heavens, and my knees tucked into my heart, spores feasting on my mind.
By Natasha Collazo8 days ago in Poets
This Isn’t AI, It’s a Pulse
This Isn’t AI, It’s a Pulse The Clique That Mistook Life for AI Disclaimer: These stories come from my own hands, my own notes, and my own lived years. I write them, shape them, and polish them myself the same way I edit my videos and create my music. This is my voice, my blues, my work.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 8 days ago in Poets
Grace
The sun is risen with red and orange bleeding high above the vast horizon. Now it is morning, you are forgiven; the sun is risen. - There will be justice when hands relinquish their need for vengeance. Blood red and orange trace where white light crept across His canvas: it belongs to Him. - The moon has risen; the eyes have opened where heaven begins. Not one tear you shed has gone unnoticed; the stars do not rest when the night here ends. - The edge of the depths erase footprints left of any sin tread into sifting sand, and darkness flees west from the promise kept where the sun is met. - It has been witnessed. The sun is risen with red and orange bleeding high above the vast horizon. You are forgiven; the sun is risen. - - -
By Sara Wynn8 days ago in Poets
IMPRISONED BY MY FAT BODY
IMPRISONED BY MY FAT BODY I wake inside this body That feels no longer mine, A prison built around me One pound at any time.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 8 days ago in Poets
I Don’t Write for Cold People
“I Don’t Write for Cold People” (my voice, my frequency, my California fire) SELFIE I TOOK THIS EDITED IN ADOBE PHOTOSHOP EXPRESS
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 8 days ago in Poets
When You Ask Me How I’m Doing
When you ask me how I’m doing, I wonder what you really mean. Are you simply saying, “Hello, how are you?” as a kindness, or do you really want to know how I feel?
By Ivy Rose8 days ago in Poets
Labor Day, 2026
Labor Day isn’t just about jobs. It's about the unseen work of staying human while society throws darts. This poem sits in that truth.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 8 days ago in Poets
Abducted
LOCAL NEWS - 6PM Authorities continue searching for a child last seen inside a home where nothing was reported missing. There was no sign of forced entry.
By Kristen Keenon Fisher8 days ago in Poets
Happens to the best of us. Top Story - September 2026.
It just takes time. Oh, wait, no. Forgot to turn the page. It also takes distance. Long, restless naps; staring accusingly at ceilings. Trying to force a fast-forward on time’s syrupy passage.
By Veronica Wren8 days ago in Poets