Stream of Consciousness

Stress
fractures of the broken, peel the innocence like nails revealing bare bone taking control creating the impotence that exposes and keeps me alone
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsdenabout a year ago in Poets
Bitter, Sweet, Bitter Sweet,
Bitter, sweet, bitter sweet, You've finally screwed my mind, I look back on love left behind. Bitter, sweet, bitter sweet.
By Calvin Londonabout a year ago in Poets
The Guiding Star
A compass spins, uncertain, free, Until a magnet's pull takes hold, you see. So too, our spirits drift and roam, Until a purpose calls us home.
By Tafsirul Talukdar luvdoabout a year ago in Poets
Protected
A battle rages but I know You'll protect us in the thick of it. 💚💙😇 “above all, taking the shield of faith with which you will be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked one.” Ephesians‬ ‭6‬:‭16‬ ‭NKJV‬‬
By Colleen Waltersabout a year ago in Poets
Earth Day. Top Story - April 2025.
Every day should be Earth Day, a day when we step outside and marvel at the earth we live on. At how blue the sky is and how every cloud is different. How every tree stands in place, and every flower blooms without any idea of how beautiful they are. How the breeze rustles leaves and flags, and clothes hanging on clotheslines wave deliriously to and fro. The water sparkles from the sun's light over a sky blue reflection, and for a moment in time all the world is right.
By Colleen Waltersabout a year ago in Poets
Omer 9 - 9th life
From the neurons’ misfire I lived many lives, now on my ninth with my final chance in seeking final facets of living. Delicately constructing, sifting,
By Chaia Leviabout a year ago in Poets
I remember her. Content Warning.
I remember her; Lost in a room behind a quiet door, she curled into the hush of pain— clutching her belly like it could hold her together, a little longer.
By Glydsabout a year ago in Poets
LIGHT VERSUS DARK. Content Warning.
Written, created, edited, produced into a story directly from my brain adventures of dreams and living in a paint bucket amidst a tortured economy and chaotic political climate in 2025.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli about a year ago in Poets
Alphabet Soup
At the intersection of PTSD and ADHD is crawling in my thin unrecognizable skin. Running from pointless unfinished chore to pointless unfinished chore. Filling every waking moment with sedating noise to overwhelm the screaming sound of my overheating brain. Panicked twirling in confusing circles, loading task after task, unable to begin until all have filled in. Tools disappear as I put them to use. Nervously checking windows, doors, and corners even while I'm unaccompanied. It's locking the bathroom and bedroom doors when only my husband is home with me. Feeling a spider descend on the room, while I walk over a piece of trash until it drags me to the floor. Windows all blinded and draped, lamps turned down, barely illuminating my face. With nothing to eat because it has all gone bad. Dishes pile up in the sink, all washed in one day, just to click on rinse and repeat. A clattering clash of magnificent thought, ready to be enacted, but motivation dies the second there's a bump. One fleeting look of disapproval ends in relationship upheaval. Fleeing to the only perceived home base. It seems to be a cyclic race. Starting out with tears of pain, easily racing the ladder to joy again. Don't dare ask me to come down. You know I'll leap, no second look. Delve into a project I have never tried before. Get three-quarters of the way before running out of the steam to go on. Just toss it on the pile, they make great kindling for the fire.
By K.B. Silver about a year ago in Poets
Working together....
What does working together really mean? Working on opportunities to provide reactions to all kinds of Kaleidescopic intentions and invitations that one may have
By Mark Grahamabout a year ago in Poets
The Plaything
Do you know what its like to feel the rainbow see the many colours but then to realize that its nothing but a dream? I felt the heat of love as I slept
By Kia T Cooper-Erbstabout a year ago in Poets
Lavender Perfume
She waltzed in wearing lavender - not the bruised blue hue of dried buds, but the soft, delicate shade that makes you forget
By Ellie Hoovsabout a year ago in Poets