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Carrying my truth.
I stand by my views,
watching through
my weakening gaze.

After a raging storm,
making peace with myself,
I vanish into the air,
my convictions fold with me.

Without simple answers,
wearing the new lens,
I see another world:
not clearer,
not wiser,
not safer,

just slightly shifted.
 4d lana
eliana
Does love only happen to the lucky ones,
or is it instead the tricks of the world that conspire within.
Can one be fully happy where there is love
or does love do like the wind
which continues to blow on end
Because with out it how can there be a beginning
as many Christians we know the beginning and the end
Genesis 1&2
But in this world so few can ever know the feeling...
the feeling of love; real, pure, true love
So its only true to ask does love only happens to the lonely ones.
 4d lana
eliana
Hand is falling
Everyday, I grab a pen or pencil.
With it I scribble words all over a page or two.
It becomes a pattern, a routine.
I read and write, every night.
Till I had enough.
My hand is falling
Change pen color n highlighter,
To mark up important things.
It's too much for my hand!
Hand is falling off!
Oh,
When will this end? Perhaps it'll end with I leave?
Or will it end when I've had enough?
My poor hand.
My hand is falling off!!
 4d lana
E Lynch
It arrives,
Unnoticed, unannounced.

Quiet,
At first.

Slow,
Seeping, dripping.

I put it down to a few stressful weeks.
I carry on.

It unpacks,
Worries, anxieties.

Gently,
For now,

Tiptoes,
Whispers, creaks.

‘It will leave soon’ I think ‘It always does.’
I keep going.

It settles in,
Getting comfortable.

Getting louder,
And louder.

Banging thoughts,
Insomnia.

‘Please don’t be happening again’.
I shuffle along my daily routine.

Claws in,
Insidious.

Screaming,
24/7.

Shame, worthlessness,
Hurt.

‘Please go away’.
I’m barely coping.

Growing roots,
Into my brain and heart.

Blossoming pain,
With every beat.

Emptiness, loneliness,
Abandonment.

Silence, Stillness,
‘I can’t move, I can’t cope.’
i’ve never fallen in love before
but i’m telling you
if i did,
my bones would screech and creak and crack to build you a home that doesn’t fight back
and
i would shower you with love until you drowned because i don’t know how to love unless it becomes too much someway or somehow
and
you would become all that i breathe and need and see and the very sound of your name would be enough to cause another relapse
because i’ll get addicted too soon and too fast and you’ll think it’s great
at first
until i’m publicly on my knees aching for your velvet kisses back
and
i've never cared for someone this way before
but i'm telling you
if i did,
my lungs would collapse and inflate again and again because you will be the only thing i'll ever breathe in
and
the people in my life would never amount to you, and maybe that's a little messed up but i wrote it
felt it
bled it, so it must be true
because i don't know how to let someone in unless i push every other person out and you'll love my attention
at first
until
you're throwing glass plates at my following figure
until
you're yelling regrets and things i should've considered
until
you hate me
because you don't want to be the only one
even if i want you to be.
i’ve danced with the devil because he has the prettiest eyes i’ve ever seen in my life
but i didn’t love him
i’ve kissed the hands of god because he smells like my childhood home and i liked that a lot
but i didn’t love him
i’ve cut open my skin for my first girlfriend because she promised to stay and that drove me insane
but i didn’t love her
and i’m telling you
if i did
i would write a poem convincing her that i didn’t
because i’ve never loved in a way that doesn’t became some form of a burden.
and i don’t love you
yet
but i am going to scrub my words into your naked body and i am going to promise that there’s nobody
but you
and you are going to love every second of it
because you’ve given in to destruction and seduction and you already understand everything about pain
you already know there’s everything to lose and i’m the only thing you’d gain
but that’s okay
because you’ve never fallen in love before.
i've been beaten and bruised but nothing hurts more than you
 4d lana
Undone
I walked to school today

Knowing I cried myself to sleep last night

Knowing no one knew

Knowing that was my power that I owned over everyone else
 4d lana
Abi Cash
It controls her
She can't stop it
It's a constant battle
She can't drop it

It has become a habit
She can't quit
It's taking over her body
Bit by bit

The scars fade
But the memories don't
She wants them to leave
But they refuse.. They won't

It's an on going battle.
It's a fight she never wins
It's a constant struggle
It's a war that never ends

It's her sweet escape
It gets her lost in her own place
She gets to control the pain
As her adrenaline starts to race

She grabs it off the dresser
As a tear falls from her cheek
She presses even harder
Reminding herself not to shriek

No one understands
No one ever will
This habit now controls her
As the world around her stands still

But now the room is spinning
Her head is getting light
She falls back in her bed
Refusing to put up a fight

She takes one last breath as she turns out the lights
Then she closes her eyes as she calls it a night
No one ever understands my scars
 4d lana
Meera
He doesn't burn photographs
He doesn't join therapy sessions
He doesn't smoke too many cigarettes
Nor he drown himself into alcohol
He scratches his wounds daily
And never let them heal
He doesn't try to get rid of the pain
Instead he let it grow on him
He waters the seed of sorrow with his tears
He feeds it with the manure of old memories
He takes it to sleep with him
And nurtures it in himself
Till the moment when every single drop of his blood gets replaced by this pain
Until his fragile heart can bear no more
And his soul starts overflowing with emotions
That's when he dip his pen into this pain
And empty his heart on a piece of paper
He bares his soul for us to feel
He creates poetry that the world would cherish for centuries to come
That's how true poetry comes into existence
Sometimes I think of killing myself
How the end would be so nice
How the darkness would swallow me up
And how the numbness would suffice
My need

For all the voices of the feelings
That constantly keep me reeling
To softly slow to a hush
As my brain starts tur-tur-turning into mush

How wonderful it would be
To have that powerful silence
Not even grasshoppers would bother
To wake me

My cells would stop dividing
My brain would stop the lying
Myself would stop denying
What I truly want

But but but
This is just a reckless fantasy
A way to elude one’s own reality

Because as I sit here on the floor
Tears drip drip dropping
I realize there’s those who care for me more
Cherish me more
Love me more
Than I love my own self

The crickets chirp
I put the pills down
Sometimes, I wish I hadn’t just been the backseat of your car,
Intoxicated. My first drunk hook up. My first. Period.
I picture myself being champagne on Valentine’s Day.
I picture myself being you, nervous in the car, holding Starbucks
because you know I love coffee. Sometimes, I picture myself as her,
calling you a stalker and ignoring your calls,
but then I see myself. I call you beautiful,
turn you into poetry, laugh at your bad jokes,
I see myself as I become your drunk Wednesday night
when you’re sad. I see myself as I say no,
I become a “this is not a good idea”
and you a “we’ll deal with the consequences in the morning.”
We laugh because this hurts too much.
You take her out for dinner and I burrow money
for Plan B because you forgot you don’t like condoms
and clearly have no idea how children are made.
I have already named him. He has your curls and
my anxiety. He is smart. Except, I never wanted kids and
you would be a great father. Instead, you tell her
the beach reminds you of her and I cry in a McDonald’s
bathroom with my friend as relief floods through me that
the test comes negative. I stop talking to you,
move forward, meet someone new and before long
see myself becoming you. Because isn’t that the cycle?
Bad men turn good women into bad women who turn
good men into bad men. I’ll set him free so he can hurt
someone like me, and I drink red wine as I read her
poems about him and me.
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