OUR ORIGINAL POETRY: Share It Here

Some people call me crazy,

they say I'm just a mess,

But they don't understand me,

don't know about my stress~

Some say I'm falling deeper,

deeper in the under-tow,

but its some who just don't get it,

its the ones that just don't know~

Don't know about my struggles,

the ones I'm going through,

The ones that drag me deeper,

where I don't know what to do.~

Have you ever felt those struggles

the ones that take the mind?

The ones that rip apart your soul,

the ones that tie and bind?~

Bind you tightly up inside,

alone with all your tears,

increasing all your doubts and worry,

releasing all your fears~

If you've never been here before,

don't call me crazy until you know!

Know what I go through inside,

or know what I don't show!~

Just accept what I've become

and say a prayer for me,

a prayer that who I used to be,

comes back and sets me free~

Free from all this bondage,

the bondage of my mind,

the one that's binded up so tight,

that's left the old me behind~

I sit here all alone in faith,

and wait for my time to come,

I wait here patiently on that time,

for my mind to come undone~

Undone from what its bottled up,

and kept alone inside,

with my thoughts, my fears,my strength, my tears

the place they went to hide~

Some people call me crazy,

they say I'm just a mess

But don't you count me out just yet,

My Comebacks are the Best!!

Ignored my one rule
Got high on my own supply
Oxytocin OD

Tricky limerence
Created false memories
Crammed under my ribs

Rolling nausea
Lacking substance to vomit
No love just sickness

Freak show amazement
The disappearing hand trick
Ruined upholstery

Did you feel special?
Feeding my ego
Replacements are easy

Whiskey dick excuse
Confusion but never mine
Just entertainment

Bourbons spill deep truth
Boy genius master of games
All an illusion

My heart is my own
As it's always been

I've taken back all the songs
They were never about you anyway
Places we went are mine, not ours
You're not invited
Us became two and now only me

I no longer close my eyes and feel you
The urge to text you hello is gone
Your name is missing from my phone and my lips
No desire to hang out
I don't wonder what you're doing or who you're

Removed your pictures from my wall
All those words have been erased
Your voice I can't recall
Deleted every connection and reminder of you

You don't exist, who I thought you were never did
When I pass you in the street
My eyes won't catch yours
Don't think I'm trying to ignore you
It's just that I have no idea who you are

We are as we started, total strangers
Let's not change that

Meeting your gaze

I am reminded that

Sometimes the most breathtaking

Visions are also those

That make sadness

Bubble up from my chest

Because I can easily

See in your eyes

That you will

Never

Love

Me.

If I had done things differently

Where would we stand

Do you think that you would still have been here

And I

That I would have been standing next to you

Do you think

That maybe we were just brought together to

Burn together - like ashes in quick sand

Little the things !

The Creation of care,

The worsen of fair.

The jump of air,

The lose of breathe.

The sight of beauty,

The mighty pity.

The start of life,

The end of riddle.

The pain of love,

The broken heart.

The queen is he,

The king is she.

The souls are born,

The duty lies.

The child is sworn,

The kingdom's built.

The age is old,

The man I die.

The tree it grows,

An immortal hope.

Here i write,

With a deep insight !

It's an emotion we want to feel,

Yet, it's the most feared.

An emotion as deep as an ocean,

An emotion so pure and real.

Yet, we're too scared to feel.

One of the few emotions,

That presides itself as a phobia,

In those who've felt the other side,

Of love.

"Happy Birthday (Dirge of Youth)"

Candle-baited wishes faded
when they outgrew boxes,
because way in the midst of your chest
you wanted to be wrapped by arms
for longer than the forced smiles
ignited by a camera's annual flash.

Those forgeries are cataloged,
tucked into dusty boxes
labeled by year,
and they'll say,
"Look, age 8 to 10, you had bouncy castles.
Those aren't cheap,"
like numbers meant love,
but you'll stay quiet because
you knew
the party was always for show and
never for you.

A lit "1" and a"7"
marked when you wished
to die young,
but you've blown the flames
with the same hope
for seven years since,

and the fires taunt your attempts
as they danced on blackened wicks
before they left as smoke.

You shouldn't play with fire,
but Roman candles colored
your resolve,
and you didn't see
they were time bombs
until the shrapnel pierced you
as reminders
for when they disappear
in the haze.

The yearly crowd dwindles and
sings the dirge of your youth
in rushed rhythms
as you look around
the darkened room.

The connections you once held
so closely,
they were imagined all along.

I like being sober but my killer is time
As the day frays away into night
Just to pass the day away must I commit a crime?
The cross I see above my bed isn't there
Flood into my head, unjustifiable fright
My happiness dissipates into smoke-infused air
Come and play, terrors of the night

I'm not a poet and English is not my first language. In fact, my poems are rather terrible. But nothing describes feelings quite as well as bad poetry.

------

"Mum"

she said "but how come you pull up your shirt's sleeves now

when before it all had to be buttoned down?

but now i'm not 13

and i can show my arms because they are strong

because they had to carry the weight of the world

for so many years

and because while everyone becomes a man after being a boy

i just had to be a man since i was born to survive

but men don't cry and men don't feel

so now i am still a child but my arms are old

strong enough to embrace my chest firmly and protect what's inside

and while they still have to work on not breaking my bones while doing that

and while the shattered pieces of my ribs cut through my arms and they bleed

they get stronger

and with just a bit more hair than there should be but still not enough

and with the adult veins that show through child's skin

and those small hands and slim fingers

that make me able to be just so gentle towards myself

thanks to them i am alive

just strong enough to protect myself from others

and just tender enough to protect myself from me

now i am proud of every day those arms gave me keeping the world from falling off my shoulders

so let people see them