Where the poetry lives or dies or languishes. Whichever.
I came at this poem from an antagonistic mindset. That’s right; I was angry at someone and this was supposed to be a revenge poem. But isn’t it beautiful and special how writing and poetry can heal us?
Body: clay, molded to imperfection, baked and glazed and baked and painted, placed at the edge of a three-legged table that shakes and shudders under no one’s touch. Mind: the table. If you enjoy reading my posts, please like, comment, and/or subscribe. I’d love to connect with you. Also, if my poems suit you, check…
If only from steel were we formedOr iron rebar, unbowed in storm.Dust-sculpted skin flakes from bone.Hearts ache from tragedy borne. If you enjoy reading my posts, please like, comment, and/or subscribe. I’d love to connect with you. Also, if my poems suit you, check out other poems I’ve written on my poetry page. © Copyright…
This poem came to me during a dark time after I selfishly hurt someone very close to me. I wish I could say it was an accident, but I understood what I was doing. Who knew the consequences would be so excruciating? Pride Seeks to prove I am a god, So I twirl ice around…
Depression is dark dark dark. Exhaustion. Sadness. An urge to kill yourself and relieve the world of the burden of you. Never forget it. Check in on your friends. Don’t be the one to say “I never thought…. ” Think.
Wrote this poem after receiving criticism for writing a poem about depression and suicidal thoughts. Yes, I understand these concepts are triggering for some. But for others (myself included), these thoughts and struggles are a regular part of our existence.
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