Rain pouring down the window,
I breathe.

Life passes outside — and inside.

These moments, so few and yet so cherishable!
I reminisce.

Reclaiming my life indulging,
in time.

[1] [2]

Thank you for taking the time to read my poem. I (sadly) noticed that I stopped writing poetry in the last years, it just slowly faded out of my life with all the daily stress and work.

I don't want to simply give up on this practice though, that's why I created this website that gives me a tiny daily poetry challenge: https://epigrammy.com/

It helps me to at least write one poem a day - and maybe it can do the same for you!
There is no cost, no ads, no nothing. I would be incredibly delighted if anyone else finds it helpful.

Life passes so quickly. One should really use all tools at their disposal to keep doing things, one wholeheartedly enjoys.

There’s a culture to birds,
One of elegance and beauty
Stalwart hawks, and eager robins,
Haggish vultures that loom.
Warlike eagles who claim victory from the depths.
Peacocks who preen, and murders of crows,
All omens of their own birthright.
Yet we forget the owl, who comes only at night,
Bringing only death swift and quiet.
We ignore the owl, for he speaks but once.
After night, and after first strike,
When all is said and done.
The owl’s wings make not a sound, not a sight.
No, the only thing you’ll ever see are the owl’s pale gray eyes.
Eyes that carry death, a void deep and dark.
Yet the owl sees all, with his pale gray eyes, he truly understands,
That on blackest night, or darkest day,
Only the owl will know the way.

The eagle soars high, without a challenger.
It’s lonely, in a way.
Yes the eagle soars high because that’s all he knows.
How to stay away.

But the hawk has found her mate, her eternal companion,
Yes the hawk hunts for  her lover,
She provides for them, you see?
Yes the hawk’s companion is not of the list,
He’s a wild chickadee.
The chickadee is carefree as can be, some my call him lucky
But He knows it’s not joy He has, that couldn’t be,
Yes the chickadee’s ignorant, it’s self imposed, but He seems happy.

This Robin’s a frail thing
Who flits to and fro.
The thing about this robin is
She’s yet to find a home.
Yes the robin drifts for ever more,
We’re not sure where she goes.

The peacock isn’t just vain, despite that’s what she wants you to think,
She’s not just enamored, or in love with herself.
No this peacock is more than that, despite knowing her beauty
She’s a prisoner, a trophy, unable to soar away.

But this aviary has keepers, collectors of a sort,

They say, “it’s not captivity, leave when you like!

“Unless it’s the night, leave only at day.”

 It’s agreeable to most of the sort.
But the owl can’t bear it, their misunderstanding
The owl explains to his Companions His plight.
The other birds say, “Don’t be silly,
There’s nothing for you left in the night.”

---------------------

[1]
[2]

Moneybags Hudson, could literally buy everything.

He only had to point and throw money at anything.

Pointing at fancy shmancy sports cars I know not the names,

But they drive extremely fast and are loud and spit out flames.

The doors close from top to bottom, and from what I’ve been told,

They all have V12 engines and are enveloped in pure gold.

He pointed at a dock and asked for a floating mansion,

He dubbed the yacht, “Hope” and encrusted her name in diamonds.

She was two hundred meters with a coating of crimson,

She put “The Azzam” to shame when she came to fruition.

All men wanted to be him and women sure had a crush,

They thought Moneybags Hudson was blessed with Midas’s touch.

Though all that luxury was just a vanity to him,

Everything he bought could never fill the hole deep within.

Moneybags Hudson spent every single one of his days,

Without ever putting a single smile on his face.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/rekG0u7m1X

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/C1MKoxYCKC

I am also gonna link how the poem originally looked. It’s more for me, I’m just really proud of how much I improved on it. I’m also really grateful of the feedback that I received on it, without it I probably would’ve left it as is.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/oebxFe5rFk

In shadows deep, he hides his pain, A storm beneath his whiskey rain. Glass after glass, he drowns the past, But finds no peace that ever lasts.

His hands, once warm, now cold and tight, Twist love to anger every night. He stumbles home, his words like knives, To cut the ones who share his life.

A broken man, a fire lost, They pay the toll, they bear the cost. His child’s wide eyes, his wife’s dim stare, A fragile house of silent prayer.

Yet somewhere deep, a spark remains, A wish to wash away the stains— To trade the bottle for the dawn, And find the strength to carry on.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/ocBdhi2Zis

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/4FVbElRNSz

To Be Great:

Powers unseen,
Leave one who shouldn’t be,
Gasping
to
breathe,
stuck in the river between,
Never where one should be.

Forced to bridge a gap unseen,
A path unknown to those who see,
Slowly sinking,
deeper still—
The river now
a boundless sea.

One cries to powers unseen,
“Why must I sink to breathe?
Why must I fight my way out
While others were always free?”

Between two shores,
one rough and porous,
the other soft, with jingles and rings,
Watching, feeling, seeing.
A current pulls from either side,
And in that pull, I learn to bide.

From one shore flows a careful grace,
From the other, courage to embrace—
Two worlds I carry, each a part,
Both beating in a single heart.

I am the bridge,
the link,
the gap,
The tethered path I cannot map.
Each side I walk, I come to know
The truths within their currents’ flow.

To bridge is not to merely cross
But to learn from both,
to bear their loss,
To carry forward all they taught,
And weave together what they sought.

I walk the line where waters churn—
From both, their ways I come to learn:
Their fears, their hopes, their joys, their pain,
Until they’re one, and I remain.

Step
by step,
I lay the stones,
To form a path that stands
alone,
Yet joins two worlds that could not see
The common thread that lies in me.

To cross a bridge is not to leave
One world behind, but to believe
That both can live, entwined and whole,
In every step and every soul.

Each step, a whisper in the dark,
Each stone, a bond, each bridge, a spark.
I build a way through rivers wild
To join the worlds that once reviled.

So powers unseen, watching close,
Whisper, “This is how it goes.
For greatness rises, like the tide,
In those who walk on either side.”

And I, the one who dared to cross,
Know that the bridge is worth the cost,
For greatness grows in those unknown—
In those who walk the bridge alone.

1:2

Her eyes

They caught mine

Too afraid

I looked away

Maybe another day

just not today

(1) (2)

I bask in this moonlight
This milky gaze that descends upon me
But it can’t last
As you sheathe that knife
And let it sink into my pale skin
The crimson blood dribbles like drool from a dog
You betrayed me.
But I still love you
Still obsess over you
Through this foggy window,
I can see your devilish,
Perfect body
Lying on that plush bed.
My heart throbs,
Like it will burst towards you like a crazed rocket,
Yet I still go.
My heart does not rest
Just yet!
I giggle as I see you get ready
Because I still love you.
I bask in your scornful beauty.
I bought new binoculars,
But even they can’t do your face
The justice it deserves
Because I bask in you,
Worship you -
Oh, don’t you taunt me
Then push me away when I want you
How cruel!
I only wish
To bask in you
And if you never meant
To sink that knife in me
Then fine.
But I’ll sink it in you
For love
For love
For love.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gqj6k1/home_first_draft/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gq98gv/comment/lwymgqy/

No longer can you find a wife Or even know the way to court For none agree on what is life, But Hefner has his harem.

You cannot make romantic sport For none will tell you of the rules That split the brothel from the court, But Hefner has his harem.

A virgin is the child of fools And it's alright to be a slut Except when that's the work of fools, But Hefner has his harem.

Where would we be without the rut In ol' Hugh Hefner's harem?

Links; https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/nTIsKcIxlf

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/xKYAtM6crw

I am here, I think that.

Do I even know that?

What if it is a dream

And we will wake up again?

I drift through the wind.

Don't know where I am going.

But I know that one thing

That I don't know anything.

Life is a struggle.

It is the case all.

Except, for some, it is 

More of a fight.

Those who have it hard,

Hear my lines of words.

I hope that one day

you shall find solace.

Our lives are temporary.

That begs the question,

What is not temporary?

Nothing is not merely.

Nothing is everything

That will even exist

Even after everything

Cease to exist.

My words should not

In any way make you

Feel the despair

Lurking beneath.

Tuck the despair instead

Where it belongs

Deep in your thoughts

Where it should reside.

What if you may ask

It starts crippling

Without a chance

Of stopping its march.

Fear not my friend

Rejoice even when

You notice that

Unfillable void.

Drifting we all are

Don't try to stop it

Since you can not

Help but fly.

Fly you shall

Without a trace

Of tiniest doubt

You shall prevail.

I am not a simple

Merry puffer

For I bring with 

Me a sad laughter.

Laugh all you want

You may not in any

Way escape that

Hole in your heart.

Me, you, us, them

There is no difference.

One is the part of

The undeinable sort.

Fraudulent Life

Why would you make

Me when I did not 

Ask to be made.

Oh my sweet joy

You will persevere

Even when the

Life is nothing but mere.

My love, my honey

My sweetest nectar

I say unto you

You have that visage

Hard is life.

Easy is nothing.

Nothing is everything.

Everything is nothing.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gq7bm0/comment/lwy5zhx/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gqd6km/comment/lwyaizz/

I've seen this place

A milion times

Always knowing

Hoping

It'll soon be mine

Little did I know

It all will soon go

But what I've forgotten tending to

Is my only home

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1eix8ma/comment/lga81qt/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1ehj53a/comment/lg00jy6/

I inhale your left breast pocket

And search for your heartbeat

Under the rattle of luggage crates on rusted wheels,

The fountain’s shush,

And the rain-patter of footsteps to and from check-in lines.

I’m squeezing my eyes shut in the black of your shirt

In the hope when I open them,

We’ll be in a knot on your living room couch again,

My legs between yours, head on your chest,

The five o’clock sunset trapped in your eyes

Like caramel stained glass

As your lips paint my forehead

With their absence,

In the hope even when you shrink away from me

Through those double doors, the event horizon—

“Passengers only beyond this point—

Your shape so small

I could wear you around my neck like a pendant,

I keep pieces of you

In your fire crackle good-night’s and I-love-you’s

And the songs you hum to yourself

When I’m pressing the phone to my ear

Wishing your breath could seep through the screen cracks,

In the hope the wind blown off the plane’s wing

Won’t snuff us to a smoke thread.

1 2

Within my slumber the essence of green calls upon me. 

Under the twinkle of the stars, I remember I am a part of those who were once free. 

A golden blood spills within this forest, one that spurts growth underneath the trees. 

The birds proudly sing the melody in the canopies. 

All along under plain sight I had been living my own fantasy. 

Rapidly, I glide with the hum of the trees, my essence taking in the breeze.

Within the glow of hazel, I found my sense of community.

Our souls align us to unity.

Lives of various opportunities, however, now combined as one we will create the legacy of impunity. 

--

Secrets links build an evolving chain, one with glory and pain.

The wind carries a song of resilience to ease the orbital plain. 

Happiness radiates even in the rain, for my soul only seeks to gain. 

--

Within the cosmos, I find my love for you.

Floating through the stardust I find my blue. 

Your golden glow melts my frosted dew.

For you push me forward to becoming new. 

--

The hazel demands a fruitful tree.

This is the story of you and me.

One of compassion and honesty. 

Consciously, amber melts into blue towards our odyssey.

--

In our forest colors may collide. 

However, the tenderness of the current will always guide.

Come, hold my hand through the hillside, towards high tide.

For then we will truly see each other once again eye to eye. 

--

My love for you thrives within my forest.

Concealed by rain the seeds will spurt our chorus.

A melody that is just for us.

One that even in silence is discussed. 

I will love you forever and always, for my heart is yours.

---

Thank you for reading!

Links:

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gqd6km/comment/lwxbjgp/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gqcsyz/comment/lwxbzps/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

Androgyny is...

A pale muted hue.
A velvet dancer,
who lives joyously whirling,
permeating the twilight.
Silky freedom coloured,

...a beautiful shade of lilac.

________

[1]

[2]

Theres a pressure inside of me, a sense of doom.

Can't cry for the life of me, can only loom.

No one sleeping beside of me, not alone in my room.

When did it come to me, when did it bloom?

Why does it live of me, why does it gloom?

It will take the rest of me, will I let it soon?

Links (I included five, since I will never feel like any of what I say is "good" feedback :/)

[1]: https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gq39ip/comment/lwwvsnc/

[2]: https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gqa5j8/comment/lwwupoe/

[3]: https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gqbllx/comment/lwwu8my/

[4]: https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gq6ogu/comment/lwwrhkv/

[5]: https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gptdw2/comment/lwwpak5/

The Ferryman beckons, he stands a lone figure at the end of the dock, waiting patiently.
Twice I approached, and twice turned away.
“It’s not your turn” He mutters “You’ve still got debt to pay.”
Third time’s the charm, isn’t that what they say?
This time death’s got a stowaway.

1.https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gq85m8/comment/lwwuul8/?utm\_source=share&utm\_medium=web3x&utm\_name=web3xcss&utm\_term=1&utm\_content=share\_button

2.https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gq85m8/comment/lwwuul8/?utm\_source=share&utm\_medium=web3x&utm\_name=web3xcss&utm\_term=1&utm\_content=share\_button

I want to erase you

I really wish that I could

I’m blowing off steam, and eraser bits

Trying to keep the pages from tearing

Your smile is my cure

I want to erase you

I really wish that I would

I’m swallowing pencil bits

Trying to keep it together

Your smile is my lure

I want to erase you

I probably should

Stop thinking and writing about you

Trying to keep myself stable

Your gaze, my allure

I thought about erasing you

I’m worried, I’m hurt

Hold onto me

I’m afraid of losing my smile

It’s yours, and it’s pure

I want you to write me

I’m so smitten, my words

Can’t keep up

With my arms

Holding you close

I’ve been writing for you

I can’t believe it’s held true

I’m sleepless

I can’t believe I’m not dreaming

I woke up next to you

I think about how you’d feel

Would you find it weird

That I bought this notebook

To fill with daydreams

Of holding you

I want you

I really wish that you would

Ignore the eraser bits

And my scattered words

I saw you

I wonder if you saw me

I hope I’m not just imagining

Catching your smile

Towards me

[1] https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gq98gv/comment/lwwlmwl/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

[2] https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gh68ln/comment/luytca4/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

Sorrow is the mode of an actor, the man behind the mask. True intent shifting with each scene, a fruit of circumstance, of subtle cues unseen.

Love is a word he thinks he knows— facades of shades he sows, yet never finds the worth he’s sure he’s owed.

Writhing in the ruins of his lies, each ounce of crafted love dies. His words slither, serpentine, as he wonders who he is inside.

For he spins his swindling song, breaking promises before long. Such is the life of an actor like me— a man with no path but through deceit.

Shock to the system, wrought with pain, as foreign feelings pour like rain, thoughts twisted, a narcotic sought, for self-love I was never taught.

I am an actor, true and true, bending my emotions on cue. I hate who I am but love him the same, for his sweet, duplicitous song fills my brain, and in this cage, I pass the days.

To further my stance, I charm and I trance, bewildering souls with each glance. But knowing what I am, I can change— this corrupted mind, worn and estranged.

There is hope, as I pave my way, lit by starlight from another’s gaze. Her voice, soft and calm, fills my mind with melancholic balm.

The cobbled path beneath me crumbles, grasping out as my body tumbles, expecting nothing in return, but for her touch, I yearn.

Her hand reaches as I descend, lifting me by her grace, her faith. In her splendor, I find my way.

The life of an actor is steeped in sorrow, a gift given, never borrowed. But once he knows his part by heart, the true life of an actor starts.

(This is really, the third poem i’ve ever written. I became inspired by someone in my life, I express through writing and this is one I wrote for her. I would be lying if I said I know what i’m doing.)

Feedback Links:

[1] https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/8nw6HMrigo

[2] https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/hxtOMBKvUn

Isn’t it strange how even the most

Irrelevant of things can seem more

Interesting the more you look at it?

Take this dead leaf.

The dead leaf in my hand.

With red with black splotches on one

Side and brown with black splotches on

The other side. The dead leaf that’s crunchy 

like papad. The dead leaf that is rounded 

at the bottom and pointy at the 

Top. The leaf with a floral smell to it.

I do not know how 

to believe in a higher power or 

Creator of all.

I do know how to pray, how to 

be idle yet ready.

Don’t we all die too soon?

When my time comes, will I have

Accomplished what I wanted to?

Tell me, is death truly the end,

Or just the beginning of something else?   

Feedback: https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gpy8ip/comment/lwwd9c2/ | https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gq98gv/comment/lwwd15h/

The ashy corners succumb

Cover to cover

Worn in pages breathe oil

Heave the dirt

Bleed black scum

Pulp writhes, crinkles, and retches

Screaming in silence

Dulled by nail bed

Scrawled on long gone echoes

Smothered, reviled

At last

We rest dead

Resigned

[1] https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gh68ln/comment/luytca4/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

[2] https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1ghghcu/comment/luyu66r/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

One step forward, two steps backward,

It's always the same old dance, my dear:

I feign indifference, you act all awkward,

And we waltz in circles around our fear.

With clumsy feet, we stagger and sway,

We're tone-deaf idiots who hear no beat,

With every step, we're closer to decay,

Yet we dance around it with merry feet.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/NdCMVv6ERF

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/58eZibAEJf

You never know what's on the other side.
For me, it was—
lies, lies, and lies.
"I still love you."
Oh yeah, right.

Thank God I have good friends
to open my eyes.
Blinded, I was,
that I trusted you.

Forgive me
that I loved you.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gq7bm0/death_wish/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gq5mhm/deafening_silence/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

I took your sin Confused, I accepted A demonic seed Bestowed upon a youthful garden Impeding the progression Disrupting the understanding Blossomed and nurtured By slave hands, my ownInfested, diseased Reality warping as it grows Has your pariahdom been passedDid you release your afflictions I pray your sins die with me

This is a poem about how sexual assault at a young age forms your mental state as you mature

Feedback

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/WBLTyxswyP

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/8W62nhttU3

what even is this? scribbling nonsense on a computer screen while there's people, humans like me dying not too far away from me. i can see them, hold them in this screen. yet, I choose not to, instead

getting my fix on horror stories told around camp fires and government debriefings. me , the crowd, holding onto their wooden log, waiting to hear what the narrator has to murmur. nonchalantly, without

hesitation, without a single emotion spiraled across its face; A horror story written only within reality, with words that could never sum up the vision at which it was thought up.

I pity the thing, the narrator; for it wastes its mortal breathe for one crumb of attention. Speaking on said horrors just to see a crowd with empty expressions. Never coming to grasps with the unmistakable

view of melancholy and boredom that comes with the crowd of no faces. But who am I to speak on this? Again, only a viewer, of atrocities given to me through a screen that even Gods couldn't imagine

within their eternal wisdom. Only a narrator, a cowardly, wicked creature only given a host to ruin the life of it's user. A grave, without an epitaph. We are all that thing, and I hate it.

Feedback :

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gq39ip/it_smells_like_october/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gq39ip/it_smells_like_october/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

I don't drink but for you..dear..

Baptize me in beer

when you're on my mind, a single tear,

down my thighs

These eyes..

LONNGG for the day they see you again.

Again. Again. Again.

Please, Please, Please..

All my brain sees..

is you.. and me

is you in me,

me on my knees,

I miss you! Miss you even though I know

I never had you.

Things I'd do to you, with you..

In you,

I Melt..

with a mere thought of you,

you touch me,

like a first snow touching the last leaf of the tree

the tree bruised by the abuse of fall,

I melt and you fall,

Your lips to mine, you hips to mine,

Please. Please. Please.

My days are consumed by your thoughts

like how the sky is consumed by the clouds and the sun for a mere sight of a rainbow,

your laughs, your eyes twinkle when you laugh..

agghh,.. I need you.

Like the dessert needs the rain,

even if the need just translates the pain,

the pain that swells my heart

everytime, I wake up from my dream

I scream,

I scream because I've lost you.

And I don't know How to get you back..

[ this is my first ever poetry, I wrote this to let my feelings out because I couldn't talk to anyone about this.]

Feedback:

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gq39ip/comment/lwvwtz9/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gq6ogu/comment/lwvxb14/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

Whispered plans fall hush, pulsing yet with bright promise through eager pathways. Softly now, chance chimes within, what is fades, cannot be.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/g1hrAHOAH4

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/dARrT00Gej

I wish you were dead.
Does that make me a bad person?

Maybe.
Anyway –

I wish you were dead.

It's strange, you know?
Carrying around this kind
of hate.

Because it's not the
boiling burning bubbling
kind that wakes me up at night.

No.

it's the quiet kind, the passive
kind, the kind of hatred
that sits in my chest
next to my other
heart. Thumps
in my chest
with my other
heart.
Only a whisper,
but listen…

Can you hear it?

I can. On occasion.
Like when someone
mentions your name,
and the hatred, the rage
skips a beat,

stops.

Then begins
pounding, pumping, palpitating,
so loud, my ears ring,
so fast, my chest aches,
swells, throbs,
and this rage,
this hate,
leaks into my veins,
flows straight to my brain,
wraps around my brain,
and pulls,
tightens,
constricts

until my frontal lobe
is gasping
for air, until my cerebrum
is turning blue,
until my thrashing
hippocampus coughs,
splutters,
then spits
out
a single sentence (“I wish

And as this single sentence
reverberates
in my head he was
the hatred's grip
will loosen,
my frontal lobe will gulp
down mouthfuls
of air,
dead”),
and my cerebrum will regain that rosy hue.

All because of that single sentence.
"I wish he wa–

I wish you were dead.
I wish you were dead.

Why?
Because if you died,
I wouldn't have to think
about you
ever again.
I wouldn't have to worry
about you running
your slimy little tongue
across the folds of my brain,
pushing your slimy little tongue
into the folds of my brain,
pushing, rubbing, running
that slimy, wet tongue into
my brain, against
my brain, across
my brain again, and again, and

God, I know I’m a bad person,
but I need you
to die. If you did, maybe
I wouldn't have to

listen to people talk
about you and what you're "going through.”

I wouldn't have to watch them shake
their heads in disappointment
when I shrug, and say that I don't give
a damn about your “pain,”
your “suffering.”
(I was a k–

Because as far as I’m concerned, you could
swallow a handful of pills, and die
on your knees with vomit dribbling
down your chin, and your head
slumped forward into the bowl of your toilet,
and it still wouldn’t be enough.

(I was a goddamn k–
It still wouldn’t be enough
(a goddamned ki–
Your death will never be enough.

But it doesn't have to be.
I'll take anything at this point.
Anything.
(Christ, I can't sleep. I can't sleep).

And so, I'll keep wishing
for your death
in bed, when the alarm clock
flashes 11:11pm
in bright red.

I'll keep praying for you to die
at night, hands clasped together
while I howl at an overcrowded
sky.

And I'll keep hoping
(cross my hearts, hope
you die
cross my hearts, hope
you die
cross my heart, hope
to

You know I could do it myself, right?
If I wanted to.
I could blow your brains
out tomorrow.
If I wanted to.
But I won't, because I'm an adult.
I might, ‘cause I'm still a kid.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gpzkze/comment/lwvrxh9/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gq079m/comment/lwvr7oa/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

myself, myself, myself

you knock on the door
28 times, exactly
because im not used to letting people in,
so i try and put off opening the door for as long as i possibly can.

but then the knocking becomes more insistent, louder, and more frequent in between silence,

so i open up.

the door creaks open,
and the powdery dust of a spider's web showers over you,
you see, this part of my mind is often left alone.
it makes you sneeze, but that doesn't put you off; instead, it seems to intrigue you more.

you walk in, and your eyes widen slightly at the blatant blood - ink - dripping down the walls of the living room, dark crayon red pools of ideas flooding the floor

offering me a weak smile, you walk on over to my bedroom. i ruefully shake my head, 'big mistake'.

the bedroom is where i spend most of my time,
and sorry, there's no time,
and ah, maybe next time.
just work, work, work, until it's no longer considered unhealthy isolation.

the skeletons in my closet come tumbling out when you open it, a dry mass of bones and little bits of flesh of the all the people i've ever wronged,

(myself, myself, myself).

______________________________________________________

feedback:

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gptdw2/comment/lwt26v5/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

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She admired him as bright as sunlight, marking the start of a tragic ending.

Hell would be intrigued, and so was his feelings.

He was charmed by those emotions, encasing him as he flew past his doubts.

But he was far too close, and felt too much.

The overwhelming heat burned right through his fragile heart. Because all it was nothing than feather and wax.

It was soft and unknowingly weak, yet it still held his feelings. It was faint but it was her that it seeks, and all her beautiful being.

But the brightness that she holds within, had pierced him far quickly than he could imagine.

And as the burning wax dripped on his chin, he was reminded of their beginning.

He thought to himself—how tragic it is, to know how tragic it will end.

And now he's falling, ablaze, yet in a tranquil state. The painful burns ached as the wind enveloped his skin. Nonetheless he was seen laughing as he fell.

Throwing his head back while yelling into the winds. Arms spread wide and teeth bared against the world. As if embracing his own demise, smiling proudly for how far he had been.

He found solace in knowing that beneath his descent was the ocean— to help him cool down his burning body and heart.

To soothe the pain that was set afire by her feelings.

The burnt wounds would still ache embraced by its salty water.

Nevertheless he was at peace, knowing everything's over.

ps. If you've noticed, I took inspiration from Icarus' story. And this is my first time sharing an english work, I am a bit scared since it is not my first language but any any feedback would be appreciated, thanks :)

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/zW13OBRSeR

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/f1S6jFYb23

I wish they could
hear—
the voices,
the noises,
the screams
I’ve held inside.

For in silence,
the loudest truths
abide.

And if I could scream,
I’d choose one simple word:
h..e.l.

But even then—
I can’t finish
this fight.

Maybe it’s the
weight
that I carry,
heavy as stone—
silent, cold,
and alone.

But,
maybe,
just maybe,
one day,
this silence.
Might just...
break

Feedback 1Feedback 2

My friends all left,

im caught between lovers

a mocking howl scores,

the air of betrayal,

though you've been here,

a dark blanket of warmth,

you fill my broken mind,

mending my fissured physce,

Leaving the wretched memories-

back to the wretched abyss,

sat upon gilded thrones, rotten,

mocking the idea of you,

of me alone, without them,

they can't see the shadows,

the absence of them,

i forced myself to be-

just another on of their-

rotten perfect pets,

a pure obedient thing,

just another possession,

on hollow love we stood,

"at least this is pure,"

the shadows whisper

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gmor5g/bend/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1gmtwds/covetous/