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Maguna Dec 2020
he wasn't in the right headspace
he wasn't in the wonted circumstance

it happened neither occasionally, but on numerous occasions

however, his surrounding be approaching and expecting his so-called tough shoulders..

..to be cried on, to be leaned on or to be the place they can dwell in for some considerable time.

his heart was made of gold, but it felt like a block of ice.

nodded his head; means acceptance.
tossed a yes; means a welcome.
painted a genuine smile; means he's all about to listen.

he was there for people, and he will always be there.

but where are the people pace their footsteps out while 911 numbers were pressed on his life's phone button?

nought. zero calls back. all dead. stone deaf.

that's how we live in, being a living buttress to people as in fact people won't ever spend their seconds to be your place to go.

aside from the bitter truth,

survive.
keep breathing. x
No matter how much I try,
I keep winding up at the same place
I keep trying to break out of my loop,
I want to learn the way life survives
By never staying the same.
What are you waiting for
A change?
An awakening?
An answer?
wanshu Nov 2020
incomplete

it was a blue sky,
and there was a hope inside my heart,
but,why it doesnt seem like that ?,

that light brightly opening like an angel's ladder,

the 'me' inside your heart doesnt seem like the 'me' in my heart,
when did i start to feel like this?,

the cold and icy glory,
trapped in the fog,
inside your words,
flying throughout the night,
feeling hesitate for denying the truth,

that light opening like an angel's ladder,

nothing will gonna happen anyway,
these feeling keep binding me up,
make me feel miserable and incomplete,

everyday in pain ,
hopping that this is just a passing illusion,
disappearing with the pouring raindrops,
but,why it getting clearer everyday?

the further i go,
the closer it get,
im in fear,
but im keep hold on,

my burning heart not going to hold on,
even if im pray to god ,
i have to accept that the heart has lost its place,
the eyes has lost the light,

that light become bluring like an ink on a old paper,

the maze has changing,
it is a different path,
and i found 'you',
who lead me to the peace and silent,
where i have been safe and sound,

the darkness spread like a whirlwind,

im following 'you' who hold my hand,
like a ray of light in the darkness,
im following you,
to forget the curse of being incomplete.
this poems for people who survive as a "depress and skyzo" 'victim'
Habiba Herisha Nov 2020
Oh god,
I’m done.
I can’t be a fighter nor can I be survivor anymore.
I’m tired.
I can no longer fight my own battles.
I’m surrounded by darkness.
I’m a prisoner of my own demons.
Oh god.
I’m done.
I’m sad
Rhys Oct 2020
There are 2 kinds of pain.
The first is the meagre feeling of being hurt.
The second is sacred.
It kills you with perfect articulation.
It decimates all of your foundations.
It makes the air stand still
and ***** white noise into the room.
It provides contrast
to the fruits of isolation.
It is the mistress of evolution.
It is symbiosis for conquerors,
for on the other side of that kind of pain
are all things worth dying for.
It’s the strength of survivors;
The breath of the resurrected

If you have yet to be killed.
If you are stagnant in your ambitions.
If you don’t even know, what you don’t know,
You are yet to fight your finest hour
Sarah Flynn Oct 2020
my skin
has housed sunburns
and scraped kneecaps.
it has carried
hair and goosebumps
and so many freckles
that I could never count.

my skin
has endured bruises
and cigarette burns.
its suffering is
the aftermath of
abuse, impulsivity,
and my own self-hatred.

my skin
has braved hot weather
and icy water.
it has protected me
from prickly thorns,
from strong winds,
and from myself.

despite the cruelty
that I inflicted
onto it,
this skin
held me together
even when I
felt like I was
falling apart.
Bhill Oct 2020
suddenly, silence without any expectations occurred
being alone, with the quite, does not have to survive unattended
silent time can be shared in the best of moments
silent time, even alone, should be pure

Brian Hill- 2020 # 286
Carmen Jane Sep 2020
You're not lost, just because you didn't  trust today
I see you here, yet your thoughts are drifting away ...
You rake the leaves, with your bare hands,
You try to see, where your future stands.

You're not lost,  just because you need a break,
I see you smile, while trying to hide your heartache
You collect the dirt, under your fingernails,
As you walk barefoot and cover your trails.

I still see you, underneath the falling leaves,
I hear your voice say "thank you"  and "please"
I see your true smile, glowing in your eyes,
You're the only reason, my soul survives.
This is a repost of a dear poem of mine, it has a message that comes from the bottom of my heart, for the ones who feel lost from time to time. Also, this poem is the first one to feature in my first book of poetry, that you can find it on Amazon
You Are Not Lost: Poems of hope, love, haikus and more https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08KBGRP9K/ref=cm_sw_r_sms_api_fab_23RCFbDTQ6YHP


Thank you for all the support I've gotten here! ❤️
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