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Maryann I Apr 13
Joy is a sunflower in bloom,
a burst of yellow laughter in the throat of dawn—
it dances barefoot through fields
where even the scarecrows smile.

Sadness seeps in shades of blue,
an ocean swallowing lullabies whole,
waves cradling broken boats
and the moon’s reflection—shivering.

Anger is a match lit red,
flickering like a war drum’s pulse,
a wildfire in the chest,
burning bridges before they’re crossed.

Fear creeps in gray,
a mist dragging its feet through alleyways,
whispers behind curtains,
the silence before a scream.

Love is crimson spun with rose,
a heartbeat wrapped in silk,
sometimes soft, sometimes savage—
a fire that kisses and consumes.

Peace wears the hush of lavender light,
a hammock beneath wind-whispered trees,
a breath drawn slowly,
unfolding like petals in spring.

Hope is the color of sky brushed gold,
a sunrise you almost missed,
a window cracked open
in a room you thought was locked.

Loneliness is the aching indigo,
stars you can see but never touch,
a winter coat with no one inside,
quiet as a room full of eyes.

Jealousy glints a poison green,
a vine curling where it’s not wanted,
something sour behind the smile,
a mirror cracked just slightly.

Gratitude glows in soft orange,
a hearth with arms,
warmth that hums
even when the fire’s low.

Shame is a dusty blush of muted brown,
an old coat you never meant to wear,
muddy footprints you try to clean
before anyone sees.

Confidence roars in emerald and royal violet,
a cloak stitched with thunder,
feet firm on the earth
as the sky bends to meet your eyes.
Kenshō Apr 10
Loneliness for an introvert
Is like the sun peaking through the rain.

It creates so many beautiful rainbows,
For one to view through a window.

Somebody on the other side is
looking at the same rainbow.

But only
If I had someone to share
this with.
.
Kai Apr 7
Your hand in mine all prom night, your
Fragile face and light eyes, your
Heart is such an ocean, in which
I drown every time.

Albeit I’m in love, your
Conscience weights too heavy on me, your
Smile twists the knife, in which
I’m still stupid to fall for.

My life and yours no longer fall into place, your
Future moves on without mine, you’re
Bound to find someone new, better,
Someone new, better than I ever was.
Okay I will post twice today why not :)
Immortality Apr 9
It was dark in cave,
the air felt cold—inside out.

He held her
as if she were glass,
a lamb
in the arms
of a wolf midnight.

Outside
the sky wept,
but inside us
a flower bloomed—
in April.
I turned 18 today! Ahhhhhhh, happy birthday to me!! Thank you all so much for the love and support. I still can’t believe I’m 18 now. I’ve been ill for a few days, so this birthday hasn’t been the most enjoyable. On top of that, I’ve been caught up with academics too. I’m really thankful for everything I have, but I also want to keep improving and become a better version of myself. I have the best family ever, couldn’t ask for anything better, tbh.
Julie Apr 6
they say don’t let the emotions gain control over your body.
But that is *******.
Actually — let it.

Let yourself fully feel every little bit of emotion
you always tried to hide so stubbornly.

And use it.
Gain energy from it.
And use it to heal
yourself.
what does emotions mean to you?
Damocles Apr 2
What is in the space of moment
Where cognition freezes and
Emotion takes the wheel?
What conversations are had between head and heart?
And who pilots the ship
When I’m sinking Titanically?
Random thought I had before bed
Kyle Kulseth Mar 25
Stunted, the same, by
          highs
            and
           lows
           alike.
A jubilant parade inside
           some nights.
Silver linings? Ticking timebombs! Infinite splinters!
No good time left unexploded.
Rusted blood iron and red wine
filling my eyes.
          Tired of feeling "weird."
          Tired of knowing I'm being.

I wish I wanted anything in a way that didn't
                              scare me.
I wish I could love anything in ways that
                            couldn't hurt--
                           --inward or out--

                    I wish...
                    I think...
If I sit on this bench...for a long time,
and keep perfectly still...but make subtle
                    eye contact
          with some of the crows...
they'll accept me as one of them?

                    Teach me to fly
                    Or, at least, hide
                       in plain sight.
        A new vocabulary for my quiet
              when it starts to get mean.

Entangled, alike, by
          lows
          and
          highs,
         the same.
Convenient jailbreak for a Name--
               --Say it.
Chewing paper? Eat the playbook. Shred this formula.
No good night goes unpunished.
Rusted blood in my mouth, and red wine--
crying outside
                    Tired of being fragile
                    Tired of knowing I know.

                   And how 'bout the crows?

                   I'm good for a laugh, they suppose.
Tristan Corey Mar 28
I do not write to speak,
but to bury,
to press my sorrows into the earth
like seeds I never meant to grow.

Pain does not leave when you ask it to,
it lingers, it echoes, it stabs,
it carves its name into your chest,
Then you whisper it onto a page,
and call it poetry,
or prayer,
or just another night alone.

There are days I drown in the ache,
where my voice cracks under its weight,
where the silence swallows me whole,
and I let it —
I cannot stop it.

But healing is not a sudden bloom,
it is a slow, stubborn crawl,
fingers clawing through the dirt,
digging ever deeper,
pulling out the pieces of who I was
to build the person I am becoming.

And what I’ve learnt is this,
writing is not about expression,
it is about excavation,
and I am still digging
my way towards the sun.
JAMIL HUSSAIN Mar 26
In my heart, the tears do call,
Each drop that falls, the heavens' thrall.
A whisper soft, a silent cry,
As if the soul would dare to fly.

In my gaze, the storm is stirred,
A spark of truth, a flash, a word.
It bends the soul, ignites the night,
And leads it through the realm of light.

In shadows deep, their secrets weave,
The night, a veil that dawns deceive.
Yet truth remains, though veiled, unseen,
In every hue, in what has been.

It’s not in notes that rise and fall,
But in the silence, beyond them all.
Where stillness breathes, the soul takes seat,
In beats unspoken, soft, complete.

In twilight’s glow, desires fade,
A fleeting flame, now softly laid.
Yet in its ashes, pure and true,
The soul's own fire is born anew
Ashes and Flames 26/03/2025 © All Rights Reserved by Jamil Hussain
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