You have been put to sleep And although they promised you a monument for the dreamers, the peace seekers, and the truth speakers.

In truth we have buried you in the waves and left you to decay.

The old and rich have stuffed your corpses with their riches and stuck you in the fields alone to take on the brunt.

And you pitiful children who weep for your dead, only to turn your head to the old and bow, you have made your bed.

To the kids who die, I am sorry. For the last time we have failed you, and our punishment is to live.

Once again I've been overthinking What's the point of living? Is this all just an endless rat race? Why does it feel like I'm trapped in a maze? Perhaps I've finally gone insane? Will l ever escape? Let's say l've made it to end, Will it even bring fulfillment? Was fulfillment a concept created to distract us from reality? Lessen the fear of our own mortality, and the harsh truth that everything is meaningless? Disappear and they couldn't care less Yet we assume that there is more? Something worth fighting for? Maybe it's our nature to resort to denial, Maybe its means of coping, A strategy of survival Else without that glimpse of hope There's no point in trying to stay afloat. Or maybe, Just maybe, I'm a rambling idiot who lacks the ability to comprehend the many complexities of life. Maybe I'm just one of the ambitionless fools who never had the drive. But who knows, And even then, do they actualy know the entirety of the unknown?

I don't want to bother her

But she's the only things that soothes me

listening to her beautiful voice

seeing her gorgeous lips curl around her smile that doesn't just light up a room

it's a lighthouse for people like me

calling me to her shores

But I don't want to bother her

I haven't prayed in God knows how long, and I feel its consequence every waking moment. I sense I must repent soon or go mad My sins are benign compared to what is truly grim God is strict and all-forgiving, yet I fear won't make it under his mercy Hell is vast; It’ll make space for myself next to the monks and priests

Suicide is vague, unbecoming, More means of getting locked out of eternal paradise Self-inflicted bloodshed is pitiful. Why do I torture myself knowing what's waiting for me in the afterlife?

I lost myself as soon as I started to love Believing teenage fondness would last till adulthood and heal gaping wounds. Weeping from the guilt of another's life on my shoulder, not realising it’s imagined.

You have incited A rage in me, Greater than that.

Felt by any man.

I want to run away

Because we laughed

we had connection

I don't want to see myself anymore

In my reflection

Because everything is a fallacy

And everything hurts

Go away, Im ignoring you

I withdraw

I take flight

Because I don't want to feel anything

I don't want any joy

And no laughter

I scream inside, but then complain

Because I want to laugh and have fun

Feeling is dangerous

Everything gets taken away

And any joy you feel now

Is your sadness tomorrow

So, I want to be numb

Not feeling anything

But then not really

Because I feel trapped

And I lack any strength

To go on.

Hab dich im Flur gesehen

Ich will weg hier

Denn wir haben gelacht

Und wir hatten connection

Ich will nicht mehr mich sehen

In meiner reflection

Denn alles ist ein Trugschluss

Alles tut weh

Geh weg ich ignoriere dich

Ich zieh mich zurück

Ich ergreife die Flucht

Denn Ich will nichts fühlen

Ich will keine Freude

Und keine Lache

Schreie ich innerlich, aber beschwere mich dann

Weil ich doch lachen will und Spaß

Fühlen ist gefährlich

Alles wird dir weggenommen

Und jede Freude die du jetzt empfindest

Ist deine trauraurigkeit morgen

So, will ich stumpf sein

Nichts fühlend

Aber dann doch auch nicht

Denn ich fühl mich gefangen

Und mir fehlt jede Kraft

Um weiterzumachen.

When the waves Throw you ashore When it behaves Like nature's uproar Sway Don't be washed away

When the storm comes rushing in When rains swarm With passionate wind Sway Don't be blown away

When the earth Rumbles in despair When the mirth Turns into a tear Sway Don't fall away

When the harmony Becomes discordant When the key Becomes dissonant Sway Don't cry away

When the world Is all against you When you are cold And you feel so blue Sway Don't shy away

When the sun Failed to rise When there is none That would suffice Sway Everything will be okay Sway Don't run away

I reach my hand out to the clouds

From my 5th floor perch

The hustle and bustle of people playing below

Whose lives I’m about to change

.

Is this how Icarus felt?

Being so high in the sky

Almost able to cup the sun in his hand

Before gravity wrote his fate

.

Oh to be like Icarus

Who was a blazing comet

And wove tales for years to come

But would I even be a ripple in the ocean?

.

I step back from the railing

The boundary of life and death

My cowardice streaming down my face

And I mumble to myself

.

Not today

Maybe tomorrow

.

As I walk away

I feel a familiar friend

It whispers sweet words to me

Promising relief

.

But I feel it stab my heart

My body

My mind

My soul

.

Here it is folks. My first poem, mirroring a not so lovely evening I had today. Not in a great headspace so decided to release some of it in a poem. Have a good night and stay safe out there.

O Lord, O Mighty

Beyond all pearls, above the sworn of lords, Upon thee I do garnish my life. My treasury doth lie at thy sacred feet; Lo, a poor peasant am I, yet I bring thee sixty pearls And cruel thorns from fields of thy toil.

But I—I shall yield what thou dost desire: Mine own life, yea, and my mother’s life, my lover’s breath, Even mine beloved child, if thou dost will it. Grant me to be thy servant. And I shall bathe mine house in blood for thee gīfre.

O Mighty, O Samuel

Still I wait, silent and shimmering. 

You told me to stay here, so I did.

I closed my eyes and listened to them 

Singing a melody of pale gold. 

The dead world echoes beneath your feet.  

-

My dear, I cannot grow wings for you. 

No more can I ascend. There it is,

a body within a body that

refuses to rot. I still hear it, 

Pristine and new, red-hot to the touch,  

Jostling within its walls of flesh. 

Can you hear me from up there, sweetheart?

-

The soil above my grave is intact. 

The stones here are shattered. This body 

continues to grow, sweetened, unbidden. 

Soon, soon, it will crawl out of its hole. 

Its bald eye sees everything, even you,

With your sinking-paths of pure terror.  

-

The angels loom above, embarrassed. 

I cannot answer them, nor can they

Rescue us from ourselves. Like a wolf,

I wear the truth inside-out like sheepskin.

My desires have grown arms and legs. 

I cannot kill them, I am too cruel. 

They stumble around, headless, for you.

Heaven is a place where I don’t play the guitar. There is no need to impress or try too hard. It is a place where I sing freely auf Deutsch. All the people praise my pretty voice.

A place where I wake-up next to you and brew us coffee. A place where I see our tow-headed children run around.

But Heaven is not a tangible thing, my dear. I can’t hold it in my arms. It can’t drink the coffee I brew. It isn’t logical and concrete. But if all physical, concrete things come and pass, And heaven like love is a promise not guaranteed, Then I consider the risk of death- one I might have to choose. To once again wake up next to you.

The weight of one’s words can carry such burden And yet your silence speaks tales of unknown tragedy What is it that you wish to say, if not to me then whom? Let my ears be your resonator if only your lips would give blessing The troubles which follow you may not be yours alone Or is that what you’d wish? You sit there in suffocating nothingness using only your eyes to mediate your pain Within them i see you, within them i see us Grace my soul with your voice as you break my heart with your tale Search inside yourself What do you see? Are we to live and flourish making life our own Or are we to lay and crumble simply waiting for death’s blessing? I wish for you to feel Apollo’s warm embrace upon your being I alone am unable to calm your intramural quarrels, I fear that now The silence you protrude surpasses that of speech Please tell me, how is it that you’re so close, and yet still out of reach

My name is Human

I am in pain

I don't need to share my status, my address or my name

Deep inside me is a longing to be heard, the empty void inside me screaming empty vacant words

Would you hear me? Would you see me?

If they knew the real me.. would they leave me?
Decieve me, coherse me, lie and abuse me

I've known how to be hidden because people use me

To be heard

I cling to the emptiness and vacant walls of the words I cannot utter

They don't make sense it's a jumbled up mess inside of my head

Loud noises, voices, swirling through my head

An ocean wave sinking me into a place so deep it feels like an endless cave

Curled up in a ball crying on the floor

Screaming at the mirror "I can't take it anymore!!!"

STOP. Remember, it's not real. Do something else, distract how you feel. STOP!... yes, you, I'm saying to dissociate. STOP! Snap out of it will ya

"If I keep silent I will suffer but if I speak I will explode...

So not a single word I utter, my soul a heavy load

If I keep silent I will suffer, if I don't speak I'll be small

When I speak no one understands me me

So I say nothing at all

--------- A hospital machine beeps -------

Friends are visiting in the hospital, comforting stroking her arm. 2 years, 5 years, time still spins.. the sun rises and the sun sets and so the flowers continue to bloom, rain will lick up the dry ground where we will all be one day too

For context, we both have different religions that doesn't allow us to be with eachother. (islam and catholic)

And in the end,

it's the way vines are tangled i want our hair to be,

strangled, entwined. inferior are the roots of the tree.

may these strings of hair, resemble a bond so strong

that the clouds stop begging,

and god starts grieving.

When I'm gone, don't mourn for me,

It's what I believed was best.

All I am is a thorn, an inconvenience,

I apologize deeply for the rest.

But I need to find peace,

You might call me weak, but I've been battling since I was fourteen,

And I can't see an end to this war.

I'd rather take control and fall on my sword,

Than live in the torment of my mind.

Yet, I'm torn, uncertain if I truly wish to die.

I really would love some feedback or thoughts on this.

== As the robust waves crash upon the soft blonde sand, the dry granules show their strength, pulling the water deeper below sea level. My toes buried down to my ankles. The chill on my feet, as if Winter was coming up from the core of earth, wrapping His finger around my wrinkled, water logged skin. The taste of salt on my lips and in the air. The one speck of the sea that I refuse to give back.. stolen, not given by charity. I rebuke the sea as the last wave fills the holes where my hands once were.

The crashing sound echoing into a symphonic love song. The not-so-distant gulls "cawing" in an off timed avant-garde masterpiece. The warmth under my feet and across my back.. while I cast shadows in font of me. The fine line of beauty and danger. The fears to feel the waters.. yet dreams to swim. I sit... I sit and just watch. I watch the idiosyncratic pattern of sight and sound.

One day, we will be one.

He don’t know when he’s hungry

Can’t tell when he’s got enough sleep

But when he’s cold he knows it

And he always knows he’s cold

The groaning in his bones gets louder

When there ain’t feeling in his toes

Two roads down he’ll knock and knock again

When the answers no and he gets told to go

Cause his dog ain't home and he ain’t here neither

And by the time that it gets dark again

He’ll be listed as another victim of the season

Nothing can survive out here for long

The cold is worse at nighttime

The covers on his new bed are heavy

But he’s still shaking beneath them

His shivers cause his breath to catch

His thoughts race like jackrabbits

But he don’t dream when he sleeps

A boy like this didn’t move himself to Alaska

But he ain’t the type to move himself out of it either

Spring ….

The sun percolates the gray sky, shedding it’s cloudy cloak

The bluebirds blush from untold wonders yet to begin

Greeny buds yawn wide from an icy sullen slumber

Warm winds spirit familiar earthy perfumes

                                               …. Beginnings 

Hi, this is one of my first poems, would appreciate any feedback 🙏.

My father broke down when he saw the wedding gown

A hulking, restrained figure, suddenly vulnerable

I stood meekly in the wake of his emotions

Stifling mine, cloaked in discomfort

Discomfort that hid emotions I could not name

I couldn’t fathom why he cried

Here I was, experiencing the greatest joy of my life

And tears streamed down the usually stoic man’s face

It seemed like he didn’t know what to make of it

All of my choices stitched in delicate, expensive patchwork

I was unusually conscious of it during our dance

My thoughts weren’t on crowd of friends and family that circled us like vultures

They were on this gown, the protective layer it provided

As my feet made frantic rights and lefts

Unable to find balance

When we sat down during the reception

I didn’t think about the heaping pile of edible wealth before me

The colossal cake and the prime rib dressed with sour cream

A meal that must’ve taken hours preparing

Instead my mind raced back to this gown I had picked

How I’d laid my eyes on it with so much confidence

How the thing was like a twisted testament

Both to my youth, which my father mourned

And to the end of my youth, which I celebrated

A 52 year old man broke down in tears in front of me

A polished, sturdy model, with me since childhood, that cracked into pieces

A beast that bore his soul before me for the first time

Hours before my soul would be conjoined with another

His tears soured the pure white garment and painted it blue

And soon my tears would join the canvas

I was at a coffee shop today and saw a flyer for a local poetry show. I don’t know what came over me but I decided to sign myself up, without having a poem. So I wrote this today inspired by my mental health and the health of my plants. I struggle with an eating disorder and I’m kinda going through it right now, fighting depression and ED.

I’m not a very shy person, but I have always been afraid to show others my creative endeavors. This is the first time I have shown anyone anything I’ve ever wrote so any feedback is greatly appreciated. I can take constructive criticism very well, so please don’t hesitate to share your honest thoughts.

Is this show worthy?

My plants are dying. They wither away before me, and I watch them shrinking in the shame of my neglect. My plants are dying.

Each day that goes by, the soil sinks in on itself— a painful reminder. Too little, too late. A reflection of my mental state. They ask for water, for light, for more than I can give, for what little will or energy I have left. My plants are dying.

Around me they curl inward, the edges of each leaf bruised by my hunger, my hands that cannot feed. We’re both starving, slowly, wilting in a shared silence. My plants are dying.

If only I could water myself, I think, looking at the pile of dishes that overflows my sink. Each unwashed cup a reminder, a weight that keeps me from reaching, from feeding myself, from saving them. My plants are dying.

When they finally reach the faucet, the water overcomes them—a flood too late. Some leaves yellow, some roots shrink back, as if even care is now too heavy, too sudden. And I understand the toll, the price they pay for drought and thirst, just as I pay, caught in another kind of hunger, where even the smallest drop is a shock to the system, and nourishment itself becomes something to survive. My plants are dying.

These plants that I nurtured, each one a fragile promise and I can’t seem to bring them back. Pill after pill and drop after drop, I scramble to keep us both alive, and it breaks me to watch them wither. Only I am responsible for our demise. My plants are dying.

Yet somehow, a few leaves still reach toward the light, thin-stemmed but stubborn. They remind me that even in drought, they search for life. And maybe—I, too, can find a way to reach, to lean into the light, to soak up whatever I can. Perhaps, tomorrow, I’ll find the strength to nourish us both.

Thank you all for your time 🩷

so i wrote this poem??? lyrics??? im not even sure and i want to improve my poetry skills, im a beginner and this might be my 2nd poem ive ever wrote so i want some criticism on the overall flow or wording or the poem. kind of cringey but i was in a dark space while writing this so go a little easy on me. 🙏 TW: abuse threats? not sure how to phrase it

memories fade but they never disappear. the good, the bad, they all stay.

i remember the laughter from my childhood, the melancholy id feel when i visit places id visit. when i was younger, the happiness that was stored hidden within those places.

i also remember, the times you shut me out, the times you yelled at me and acted like you were crazy, the time you held a knife to my throat.

i remember all moments where you threatened to take my life or someone near me, chased innocent animals for no reason, all because you had too much.

they say drunk thoughts are real thoughts, so tell me, my dear did you mean it when you said you would kill me without hesitation if you wanted to?

memories fade, but they last forever. memories that contain you, though, will never fade.

any tips?

The gift of kindness

Never received

Due to my own blindness

I was deceived

Believing it a ruse

Never a question

Always doubting your pure intentions

Living in constant flight

Never trusting the ground

This time I am crashing down

They say sadness ages you, If this is true, then who called wrinkles smile lines, And not tear gutters.

We're pin down by enemy fire

In a muddy foxhole

One by one my men died

Till a stray bullet

Struck me in my side

My body drop dead

But my lone spirit remain

On this mortal plain

I finally made it back home

In a casket.

No one

No one wins, we all lose

Winning now maybe, but soon you'll see

No one wins, we all lose

Lost my heart, buried in the dark

See we lose

Lost my light, shining guding me right

Losing again

Losing is constant really, cells dying, re-growing

Never the same though, always dying

Lost my partner, friend, and a genuine good person

Nothing's forever, we all lose

Trees lose their leaves, grass loses its green

We all lose, sometimes even if we win

The year was 1887,

The cruel old lady in the house on the hill passed just days shy of seven.
Isolated and alone, a life so miserable.
No one came to her funeral and no one came for her home, how horrible. With no next of kin, the house sold at auction. I scavenged through her things - most of them hidden. And in a wooden box, dusted and old, I found a letter. On it was written:

An apology, before I go.

If you were to see the world from my eyes, little bird, they would surely burn.
For no depravity seen, nor evil, nor sin,
Would I not shield you from, in this life or a thousand to begin.
My thoughts were mine alone, prisoners in my mind,
Yet I wrote a poem, for you and all humankind.

• From your Mother, Dearest. Signed 1849.

It’s the water’s music that plays at dawn, The half-yellow sun bright at midnight’s haven. So that the mornings are held off for hours, And the troops don’t come home long after the war.

We are the permafrost, Now that leaks into the sea, Our wails hitting the tidal stars, Rumbles drawn out by the ocean’s voice.

And when the morning finally draws in, Like a belly-full python, reluctantly slithering forward, It’s an arm here and a leg there. You call us the fallen heroes.

We no longer keep our frozen selves—we leak. Like cracked skin pierced by bayonets, Pricked by the blazing sun.

Our cries drip in droplets, we ooze, Our muffled pain, sinking into the deep. “We don’t matter,” you have said, “We were meant to leak with age.”

One day, we’d spill the ocean, We’d cover the earth and drown it— But we’re no killers; you made us.

We are the little girl’s father, now fallen, The lost husband of a widow in mourning, The son of a grieving mother, The brother of a broken son.

Yet war is justified, And with the same thoughtless hand comes the warming of the earth.

Love is a ride -

Heart beating rapidly,

Chest tight,

Searching for an acknowledging wave,

Passionate hollering,

When the roller coaster stops,

Going up and down,

A predictable yet obscure figuration,

You grab a ticket for another excursion,

Walking away from the last:

Dizzy,

Unsteady,

Lacking direction,

You stumble upon a merry go round,

This one however is:

Consistent,

Predictable,

Calm,

You can’t help but think

How boring.

• KD

Shallow shells

The shallows, that built my ideal tone on love are creatures your love birthed in shame,

now these ghastly creatures torture my heart— fond of you, shame, and abuse. how do I break free? when it's shame and guilt you birthed in me.

etched memories I can't scrap, as the tattoo on my skin.

the deformed version of you my own— the beauty of it I see. time has echoed by and through, yet the mere years we have put on in separation have led me to be a sinking cause, while you linger, a violent ghost, one that pruned me of love.

and this corrosive heart with no innards, you see?? the etched pleasantries, as if the wave-base, love letters meant something. you own my soul, and ashamed of what I am, I allow my heart to carry on, though toxic.

a victim, of love and your choosing, a coward that lacks strength to stand for oneself. what have you made me into?

maybe the winter should have smothered me as Jocasta syndrome would, as for snapping all frames of us? it was just a precautionary tale.

i clearly recall the night i did the emotional recalling, of pulling my emotional funding for the fumes that made my organ bitter.

by the bridge, the fake kiss, the fake hug, and the last bus ride— all those have broken me, knowing so well, i became a victim by choosing you.

"Am I home"

--------

--------

I don’t have a home

It was burned away

and for a long time

I believed I deserve it

--------

--------

But now I am cold

In this harsh winter

I can feel my heart

Freeze up and slowly die

but I know that I can't let it die away

It’s the final thing I own 

It’s all I have

--------

--------

I search for a home

Where I can belong 

Knocked on each door

Waited it to be opened

Waiting for someone to come

And give me a hug

Saying the beautiful phrase

I had always longed

--------

--------

But no matter what

I can’t find her

I can’t find home

No matter which land

No matter which sea

No one takes me home

And I’m left all alone

--------

--------

Snow keeps on falling

And sticks on my skin

Not wanting to let go

And so I feel the warmth 

Slowly fade away from me

--------

--------

Tears can’t even come

They freeze inside me

As I feel the world disappearing

Wondering where others warmth 

has disappeared from this cold world

--------

--------

The snow kept piling up

And the wind kept howling 

In the darkest night I’m in

slowly feeling myself go

--------

--------

Until I felt a warmth touch

Eyes were frozen shut

Couldn't know what it was

But I still could speak a bit

So with the remaining courage I have

I ask-

Am I home?

--------

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

--------

I would love if you have any thoughts you want to share on this poem :)