OUR ORIGINAL POETRY: Share It Here

The gushing waters

Storm within

The springtime colours

Ooze out of my veins

I await the sunshine time

That whispers your words

Unspoken, but not unfelt.

I await the sunshine time

That would call me home

To your call, to cool that storm

That churns and wrench

Your inner, unseen trench

That caresses that spectral shadow

With the deepest care possible.

I should'vewalked away

by: Kiti

I asked for your name,

You just smiled and told me trouble.

I should?ve walked away,

But your stare made my knees wobble.

Your eyes intrigued me,

My innocence made you stay.

You weren?t the one to just let me be,

I didn?t mind and let my mind dream away.

It was like you?ve read my mind,

You always knew exactly what to say.

It made me feel blind,

Never knowing how to reply.

You were like magic,

I was like a little girl.

You took away my panic,

I felt like a bird.

Trigger Warning

Stay safe,my friends

It's one of those days, when I miss her more than ever. All the wrongs of the past are piling up on me today, and I'll dump them here because I don't know what else to do. Thanks for reading. It's only my second poem I ever wrote. I tried to keep the shape of each stanza in sync with the title, but I don't know if it quite worked.

Drips

Drip, drip, drip

Splash and splatter on the ground

A faucet drips

I stand up, creaking floor

I want to fix it, angry shouts

Stab like knives through the weary walls

I hear the parentals fighting and I sit back down

Even the handyman can?t fix a broken home

I stare at the cracked ceiling and wonder

Bitterly, home, sweet home?

I miss the peace

Urine drips

My grandfather looks up

He forgets me and continues

The tile floor is slippery, I worry

Will he slip, and lose his mind again?

The door, the light switch, already too difficult

Such a nice euphemism, nursing home

A place to die, like my grandmother

I miss the memories

Tears drip

She left me so quickly

When I needed her the most

The memory aches sharply, spears in me

The pressure crushes my chest like a devil?s hand

Still, I miss her: the reason I awoke each day

Now she?s gone, I was too much to handle

It?s all my fault, it always is

I miss the joy

Blood drips

I press the knife deeper

I feel it in my vein, a part of me

Red rolls rapidly down my wounded arm

I stare at it, another casualty in this losing battle

I hear it on the floor, I see it smash down

Stains the creaky oak floor mahogany

Such a wonderful color, I think

I miss the health

Life drips

Slowly, slowly away

Into the hazy past they go

Never to be reclaimed, despite my will

Or maybe to spite me? Who knows anymore?

I feel it draining out of me, into the dark

It oozes into oblivion, or does it rush?

The devils mop up my remains

I miss the life

Drip? Drip? Drip?

Splash and splatter all around

Area 51

There's this feeling that I get when I can't touch you anymore, I stop breathing until I can hold your hand again. I haven't taken a single breath for three months and maybe that's why I'm lightheaded or maybe that's why I can't seem to sleep. But I'm choosing not to breathe because to breathe without you is terrifying. A new territory I do not want to explore.

You know what I really want, I want your mind..., I wanna get inside your head and stop time. I wanna make you feel like forever is a minute and a second an eternity... You see the thing is, I already want you, so now, what I really want is for you to want me too. And the only way I'm gonna do that is by making you feel like in a room full of people it's just you and I standing alone. Make you feel like you're the most special woman in the world.... but, the only way I can do that.... is if you let me.

the sunlight isn?t going to

shine off my scars.

No matter how many times you tell me

how my pain is beautiful.

It won?t seem beautiful anymore

when I have tears streaming down my face.

It won?t seem beautiful when

people stare at my scars in public.

My pain is not beautiful

my pain is pain.

And I?m not romantically tragic

I?m depressed.

I don?t need someone who will kiss my scars

and find the stars in my eyes.

Because my scars should not be kissed

because I have done this to myself

Not so that you can try to fix me

so that I have a way to self destruct.

Tell me

what is so beautiful

about wanting to rip myself to shreds?

Would you tell someone with cancer

that their disease is tragically beautiful,

or romanticize it?

Then why would you do that

to mine?

I fell in love with somebody

But that somebody doesn?t know

I try to hide it

And she must not know

I am restraining myself

Because I am afraid

For this kind of love is forbidden

And must not even exist

I tried to keep it

But then the knots went loose

And now she?s getting nearer

With everything turning out as a beautiful disaster

Hands gliding across the fingerboard,

a faint scent of colophony,

nightfall.

You were practicing

Bruch's Kol Nidrei.

What are memories?

That dusk, those sounds,

lights going dim,

my soul filled with

an illusion of transcendence.

Oh, have mercy.

I am a cracked

porcelain figurine

on the palm of your hand.

Don't let me fall.

What are memories?

They are bits of time

captured within the crack,

preventing the darkness

from tearing me apart.

Your hands were gliding.

I gazed at the shadows

drawing patterns of dreams

on the violoncello.

I remember.

Waking up at the sign of daylight, remembering
occurring situation while feeling the weight of the
world upon shoulders. Navigating the sea of what
may not be, but it is currently. Breathing peace like
once before before can be quite difficult, but I?m sure
it?s not impossible.

Thousand reasons to think, thousands words to say
but something which will always remain constant is
the strong person you are, through thin and thick.
A trail of roses and thorns are a true testimony of
the strong person you are, flying with angelical
wings to reach paradise.

I remembered nothing is impossible, not even drawing
in the wind, or reaching true peace and happiness.
The whole universe fits your strength and courage.
I wait for a shooting to wish for you to be happy
once more like I know you can. If I gain my strength
back is to guide you through the dark.

I want you to shine, more than water sparkles at nigh,
shine through everything to show the strong person
you are. The gaze of your eyes, and the glance project
tranquility and harmony. There?s nothing more to hide
at all because of the transparency. Step by step to
get closer.

The stronger person you are, The stronger person you are
Being fortunate to have it even through times because
it?s possible. I have been blessed to see it, and able to
Feel it.

Ordinary, Extraordinary Miracles

The smallest, most ordinary yet extraordinary miracles that were scattered so very conveniently, so very carefully and precisely across the shadows and corners and crevices of each and every day that somehow coincided with what needed to be let known to me - the small and simply beautiful things that interrupted the humdrum rhythm of the despondent monotony I began to become familiar with and fear - are what kept my sanity and hope resilient during my moments of mental breakage.