OUR ORIGINAL POETRY: Share It Here

Bypassing byways,

flyaway blues highway

with your stacked maps,

dead again from sleeplessness

and rambling swan songs,

so long gone.

Thanks I guess :) Do you write as well?

My Sister Said Don't Play With Scissors

My sister said don't play with scissors

But i never understood why

My sister said don't play with scissors

but i thought

Atleast let me give them a try.

She had a few marks on he wrists

She said "ow"

when i gave her hand a twist

I guess it was the scissors

I thought i would give them a try

My sister says don't play with scissors

I think today i understood why

Cause i saw her playing with scissors

I saw her bleeding.

I saw her cry.

My sister said don't play with scissors

But i couldnt help but wonder why

Now that I'm older i get it

Now Iwant to give them a try.

I loooove this. Well written :) I connect with it because I used to self-harm but when my little sister was born I didnt want her growing up thinking it was okay to do so I stopped...thank you for sharing! :)

omg it means so much to me that this means so much to you!!! i have a little sister too, who is very confused about my scars. i wrote this poem to remindme how badly things could go for her if i didnt quell my addiction. right now, i'm fighting. and you just added another layer to my armour. thank you !

I'm happy to know I've helped, even in a small way :) It truly is wonderful, it gave me chills. If you ever write any more I'd be happy to read them here :)

Very touching, amazing!

thanks to the both of you, this is my first poem i've ever written about self harm and one of my first contributions to a thread on this site, so it means the world to me.

You've done justice to the poem with your skill..Hope to see more from you.=)

Alright guys, just something I cooked up. My friend cut again today and she described how she felt, so this is for her. It's not very good (idk why I decided to rhyme it, as it kind of takes away from the point) but I thought someone might like it. I really suck at poetry and this is my first attempt so please be kind. Thank you for taking the time. It's partially my feelings as well towards the end. Thank you.

:::TRIGGER WARNING:::

Please be safe my friends.

Silver Devil Smiles (Written by: Yours truly )

Upon the table lie my tools of trade

Box cutter, scissors, knife

Beneath my skin, they often raid

But do they really cause me strife?

The black, bleak darkness hides me

I think upon my sorrow and pain

I take longing glances at the key

To end my feelings with bloody rain

They glint at me with glittering light

I reach across to hide from sight

The silver devil smiles in the night

I can?t quite cover them right

Soon they?re in my hand

Placed against my smooth skin

Upon my arm or leg they land

A feeling with no relative or kin

The shame and hatred follow soon

Weakling scum I say to myself

Red is black in the dark ruin

Of what was once clean with health

Never again, this promise I make

Another one empty in a world, depressed

What can I say but it keeps me awake?

When all I want is endless rest

I think about what keeps me from death

And all I can think is this false hope

Coward, I won?t take my final breath

All I need, a bit of common rope

And so with tears in my eyes

I return to a living, painful sleep

Remembering her before her lies

Without her, the future just a blind leap

As melancholic as it is, I found it really beautiful. Kudos:)

Thank you 😀

I agree, @Dhara94, this poem is powerful. Amazing work, @GeneStealer.

Thank you 😜

Agreed with everyone above. Well written! I believe I might have a similar style. I'm still debating if putting a "trigger warning" will be enough of a disclaimer for the content I that write about.

*trigger warning*

Her Words

by PandaPsychosis

Darkness lies within the mirror,

Nothing much is getting clearer.

All he sees is what he hates.

What he wants beyond heaven's gates.

Her words stabbed at his heart,

and tore him apart.

His home address was on cloud nine,

Now it's at hell?s sign.

Reach out for holy hands,

Reach for different sands.

Reach out for a hand above,

Reach for a hand of love.

reminds me of a lyric from It's Time, by imagine dragons. "the path to heaven runs through miles of clouded hell". i love this poem :)

Thank you!! :)

There are many words in the English language That brings a tear to my eye But the saddest one of all Is that single word "goodbye " Somebody somewhere Dreams of your smile and finds in your presence a life time worth while So if your ever feeling lonely remember it's true somebody somewhere Is thinking of you x

50?

1 because only you are going?

TRIGGER WARNING

The End of You

You walk along the tempest,

Delve into your deepest thoughts.

Rekindle the long lost memories,

Yes, its your fear of the dark.

Its been years since the last storm.

Battered, weathered and scorned.

Like a plank weeded in the ocean,

You head to unknown lands.

The mind is a twisted blunder.

Welcomes you to the wicked world.

Crushing down on your free will,

Till there's nothing left of your soul.

After all that beating you've taken,

You long to get to the shore.

But Alas! You're will is broken,

You rest down the ocean floor.

Bypassing byways.

Flyaway blues highway

with your stacked maps.

Dead and dead again

from sleeplessness.

Rambling swan songs,

so long gone.

Be good to them

always.

I can can hear a collective rumbling.

so I don't spose it matters

which way we go.

A modern town

hardly knows silence.

But then again,

the world is a place without end,

where souls are combined.

the silver tongued devil,
touched the flesh of a
breathtaking angel.
while the pain was there,
she felt none.
for her pain inside hurt worse,
than the devil cutting
her up himself.

This one is called Run Away

She runs and runs before she breaks.

Before she prays for her soul to hate those cursed, cursed words she says.

No wonder she thinks she?s better off dead.

She cries, and cries every night. Sobbing and gasping to the cuts on her thighs.

But this is a puzzle, can?t you see? See that this girl is truly me?

My words are hidden, my mind is full. Why must we live in a world so cruel?

I?m misunderstood, and branded with lies. Hated for what I feel inside.

Down, and down, and down I go. Killing these voices I?ve grown to know.

I take my passion. I take my words. I create a talent so absurd.

Medicated, and reconstruct although I refuse to just give up.

Breaking, breaking, and breaking away. I still can?t deal with all this pain.

I can?t be loved. I can?t be saved. Just run. Run away.

Go before they catch you, go before they lie.

Go before they change you?change you inside.

This one is called The Devil Himself:

She?s just a young girl, confused and lost.She?s trying to find love, but confusing it with lust. Caught in a trap by a man called Him. Used and tormented, forced into sin. Her mind is going insane, and her words are getting twisted. She can?t escape her own reality, but only because He wished it. She?s losing relations. She?s falling into temptation. Only because Him is speaking of certain allegation. He?s just standing there. Laughing as she?s ripped bare. Bare of her sanity, and bare of her hope. Tying, twisting, making that rope. The noose around her neck seems to be the only escape. The only way out of this horrible place. She feels as if she?s losing it. She feels as if she?s gone. She feels as if she?s been lied to all along. All because of him, she cannot trust anymore. Her heart is now broken. Her heart is now torn. He?s the reason she?s leaving. He?s the reason she?s hurting. All while he?s watching, laughing and lurking. She?s forced into this all because of a man named Him. Into this state of mind, into this whim

I wish I knew where my diary was, it was loaded with my adolescent thoughts and ramblings. I would love to post them here ~

Last night, I was dissociating again, and I made myself some tea (or maybe I imagined that I made myself some tea). And I made myself a poem.

This Is How To Exist

A boiling pot
The tea is hot
The tea exists.
The jasmine tea
It flows through me
So I exist.
And through the air
And in my hair
My fingers flow.
And stairs of wood
All strong and good
Are where I go.
The wood blocks call
Where my feet fall
For I have weight.
My watch glows green
Now I have seen
The time and date.
I count to ten
And count again
Intoning, "breathe".
While oxygen
And nitrogen
Flow through my teeth.
Upon my thighs
The laptops sighs
And warms my skin.
And in a tab
A small collab
Where ends begin.
Where I might scratch
I put a patch
of After-Bite.
And rock my feet
To the soft beat
Of V. Twilight.

When I first read this poem, I did not continue beyond the first few lines because they didn't connect with me, But then I read again, everything.

And it's wonderful!! I LOVE the passages about the stairs where where the feet fall, the intoning of "breathe," the focus onoxygen and nitrogen flowing through the teeth, and the laptop SIGHING and warming the skin of the thighs. Wow.

And the ending, "rockmy feet to the soft beat of v. twilight: -- marvelous!

(By the way, is there a typo in the last line? Is the readerto understand what "v" twilight is? Could it be the twilight created by the soft light of an electronic screen?)

Thank you! ~ Actually I cheated there for the sake of themetre-- it's Vanilla Twilight, a song by Owl City, a very calming song.

shoot, i spelled ephermal wrong in my post, can i delete that...? ////

@yumikoflare, I edited for you. Is it now the word you wanted?

Have you ever sat in the shower and cried?
Hot water couldnt sting enough if it tried.
Have you ever been trapped in a cage?
Struggled to breathe, your mind filled with rage?
Have you ever tried to commit?
Suicide, homocide, or even admit?
Have you ever seen your reflection for which you stand?
Or fight the dealer for a better hand?
Have you ever had the courage to dig inside your skin?
Or ask yourself where to begin?
Have you ever looked down a thousand feet?
Thought to jump and meet the street?
Have you ever loved?
Have you ever leaped?

Love the tone of the poem, especially in lines like "fight the dealer for a better hand" and "meet the street". Good work ❤️

I like this poem a lot. Its got rhythem without being childish

Just remember when your world is

Collapsing and chaos is consuming

There?s a little voice in your head

That says ?shut your eyes and go to

Bed,reality can be frightening but

Worse is the images that plague

Your head, for they cannot be

Silenced.?

-Sydney

Here I come again, with my strange poetry. I hope I don't bother you too much :)

Aleksandr Scriabin composed the magnificenttone poemLe Poe de l'Extase op. 54 (Поэма экстаза)in 1908. The interesting fact is that he also wrote a long poem to serve as the programme note.

I bring you the magnificent finale, just after the Spirit concludes:"Я Экстаз!"

I won't post the original version, as it proved to be a rather pointless exercise.

The universe

Is embraced in flames

Spirit at the summit of its being

Feels

Endless tides

Of divine power,

Of free will

Emboldened,

That which menaced

Is now seduction.

That which frightened

Is now pleasure.

And the bites of panther and hyena

Are now caresses

And the serpent?s sting

Is but a burning kiss.

And thus the universe resounds

With a joyful cry

I AM!

You were the love

to tide the feelings,

but now that you're gone

I'm just lost out at sea

[trigger/content warning: self harm, eating disorder, hallucinations/psychosis]

It Does Not Follow

The Princess of Non Sequitir
is too easy to find --
she lives inside a House of Glass
that's housed inside my Mind.
she has been there -- and was there where
my fallen Stars aligned --
The most important thing is to
have Courage and be kind.

there are no Rules to follow and
there are no Rules to write
There is no morning Breakfast and
no Dinner when it's night.
for Time's a Hall with rubber Walls
where frightened Hours take flight
to mention Food is very rude
it's never never right

The Princess of Non Sequitir
is charming -- nice and sweet
she knows that pretty Girls don't lie
and pretty Girls don't eat.
there are no Socks over the Scars
that are not on her Feet --
she knows -- so much -- for there's so much
that she does not delete

she lives inside my Closet where
she reads my Diary
her voice -- is high and breathy and
is sharp and fiery --
she often makes me submit to
her fierce Inquiry
she told me not to write this Poem
she will be ire-y.

And there we stood
At the very top,
Your arms around my waist
And mine
Higher.
You pulled closer
And told me
To fly.
Oh, how I tried,
But it was just...
Too
Much.