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Viktoriia Jan 26
we write our stories with unsteady hands,
our fingers stained in ink from all the errors,
a silent witness to our hopes and terrors,
it will remember when the world forgets.

and if we make it through to tell the tale,
our voice may linger, but the words will perish,
so we disclose all of our hopes and terrors,
be it in darkness or the light of day.

anonymous or public, foes or friends,
bound, bruised and battling your inner devils,
you'll see yourselves in our hopes and terrors,
preserved in stories, written by our hands.
Viktoriia Jan 25
they'll give it a name,
but a name doesn't mean
they'll take it more seriously
now that it has a place
in the common vocabulary.
it's still something
they don't understand,
since they can't relate
to battling the heaviness
just to stay present,
they don't know the weight
of staying awake.
now they put it on screens,
they promote it commercially,
mass-produced relief.
it still doesn't equal acceptance,
and just being able to live
shouldn't need to be paid for.
they give it a name,
but a name doesn't mean
they're no longer afraid to say it.
though it has its own place
in the vocabulary,
the victims remain unseen.
Syafie R Jan 21
I broke the leash—
felt it snap between my teeth,
the metal biting deep into my skin,
but its absence leaves a weight
heavy on my heart,
as though I’ve lost a limb.
Still, I carry it.
Every step feels like I’m betraying
the creature I was meant to be,
but I move anyway.

Your collar is gone,
but its echo tightens my chest,
a phantom pressure,
reminding me that I was born
to seek your approval,
to obey your every call.
I run,
but every breath tastes of you,
your presence clinging to me
like smoke I can’t escape.

Your voice gnaws at my spine,
low and sharp,
its growl imprinted in my bones.
I feel you in every shadow,
in every gust of wind,
like a leash invisible but real.
I push forward,
but the past scratches at my heels,
its claws deep in my skin.

Still, I run—
not without cost,
but I claw forward,
defying every instinct bred into me.
Your shadow pulls at my heart,
but I do not stop.
The path is not easy,
but every step is a battle
I am learning to win.

And though you haunt me—
your name, your scent,
the chains of my past—
I know this:
I have broken free.
No collar, no leash,
no chains will hold me again.
I am no longer your dog.
I’m sorry if this is too long to read, but I feel deeply touched and truly appreciate all the support I’ve received in this community. It’s made me feel like I’m something in this world (even if just a small piece) recognized and valued. I feel blessed to write another part, one that I hope people can read and feel with me. Maybe it can even help others who are trying to break free, just like I did.
Avici Jan 19
Once he was 7 years old
His sensational story got told
When he was compelled to stop
Still climbed the mountain top

As he sat by the setting sun
Finding ways to be the one
Rising from the ashes
Figuring his way out through clashes

Realising the deep dirt he was in
How well did he solved the problems he had never seen
Keeping his head still with a grin
Transforming himself into the man he had never been

Believing himself to get out of any strife
Embracing the true spirits of life
Humbling himself into a gentleman
Nurturing members of his clan

Showcasing a journey of tranquility with grief
So well did he displayed the power of belief
This was the ‘Struggle of a lifetime’
But everything, everything, was worth the time.
raahii Jan 19
आँखों में नमी , बदन मैं तनाव लिए बैठा हूँ ,
मै हर दिन , रात किसी तरह बिता लेता हूँ।
जाने क्यों खोज लेता हूँ हर अच्छाई मैं कमी ,
मैं हर दिन को बुरा मान बैठा हूँ
A glimpse into the inner struggle of seeking perfection, yet finding flaws in everything, even within ourselves. A journey of emotional tension and searching for peace.
Viktoriia Jan 17
i stay out of it more than i used to,
painting pictures on a metaphorical canvas.
anything is possible if i want to
find something that catches on,
leave everything else that matters
and turn away from it all.

i have great conversations with myself,
drawing memories like a string to wrap and tighten.
i live and die keeping it to myself
with every thought that spills through
like gasoline, begging for a lighter.
i stay out of it more than i used to.
They ask me why I love you, 
They ask me why I care.

And though the answer eludes me,
the feeling is still there.

Like a moth to a flame,
the danger never sensed.

I'm drawn to thee eternally
in spite of circumstance.

My heart was told to love you,
I don't know by whom or why.

And even though it hurts me so,
I cannot deny.

My heart was told to love you
and I will heed thy will.

For my love for you
is the closest thing to
Heaven I'll ever feel.
Sometimes we fall in love with someone
who has been hurt or broken. And
even though you know they love you back, Its difficult
for them to trust you and open up to you.
Sometimes it feels like the easiest thing to do would be to
run the other way.
This poem is about deciding to stay and defying logic and reason
and finding the greatest love of your life.

Now available on my you tube channel

www.youtube.com/@tsummerspoetry
Syafie R Jan 15
A shadow lingers, heavy and cold,
Never a story of joy retold.
Tablets lined in a fragile row,
In their silence, what do they know?
Dreams dissolve in a bitter hue,
Emotions dulled, both false and true.
Promises whispered: "You’ll feel whole,"
Relief bottled, sold to the soul.
Every smile feels borrowed, thin,
Shaky hands hide storms within.
Still, we swallow, day by day,
A search for light in skies of gray.
No cure, just balance, a fragile dance,
To numb the ache, one last chance.
Gabriel Yale Jan 15
In a world of crumbling cities, we stand on the platform’s edge,  
A train hums softly, bearing whispers, she says, “We must pledge.”  
"The road ahead is dark," she breathes, "And this place offers no grace,"  
She boards in haste, I'm left behind,
faceless foes as the shadows close in place.

With cold hands grasping tight, they hold me back with force,  
The train is moving, heart is pounding, love’s a fleeting course.  
But through the struggle, I break free, tearing through their hold,
I sprint to catch the fleeting train, heart burning, fierce and bold.  

From car to car, I chase her voice, through walls of steel and gloom,  
Her cry cuts through the silence, like the bloom of a flower’s doom.  
“Where is he? Has he made it?” Her voice, a tremulous song,  
And in that moment, I hear her call, where we both belong.  

With joy, we meet, our arms entwined, the world feels whole once more,  
She rests on my lap, our lips collide - relief, like never before.  
In the depths of night, in a broken world, we find our stolen light,  
Together, we are home again, love’s fire burning bright.
Together again, we are the same.
This poem explores the desperate pursuit of love in a dystopian world where shadows and cold forces threaten to tear apart connections. The protagonist’s struggle to reunite with a loved one amidst a crumbling, uncertain world highlights the enduring power of love as a beacon of hope. The imagery of the train serves as a metaphor for both escape and the journey toward redemption, while the repeated theme of darkness and light emphasizes the tension between despair and the warmth of love.
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