Toxic Poems
The Little Things
by Maddie Walter
I’m used to it by now.
Nothing can surprise me.
I’m not your puppet, I never was.
I’ve cut myself loose.
I could have anyone else but you.
What is wrong with you?
No.
What is wrong with me?
I want to cry, and never stop.
......
Cry me a river
by Grace Hough
Cry me a river
and a lake
I've been hoping for you
to feel my mistake
the liquid is deep red
from fresh lines it bled
the skin that's open stings
as I sit here waiting for your ring.
Cry me a river
......
Firefly
by Awwab ParachaThe firefly in my soul is burning my body. It makes me run until I'm near death, then gives me a few seconds to catch my breath. Then, chop-chop, back to the hustle! Again. The six strings become my entire world as I get lost in the web of possibilities that are just aching to be realized, be seen, and be heard. My words melt onto the page, taking form as the led of my pencil turns into liquid gold that bleeds out of my pores when I cry. I want to cry. I need to cry. I want my tears to turn into lines that form sentences that stab people's hearts like the spear of lightning that was birthed in the caves of Zeus's fingerprints. I want my fingerprints to be remembered. I want my sentences to be kept in a museum beside those ancient teapots that were used by some fat king. I want my six strings to become someone's entire world, their entire universe. I wanna be famous. I want to play with my life. I wanna destroy it and bring it back with the help of my firefly. This firefly runs through my veins faster than my blood, faster than my pain, faster than my joy, and faster than... me. It is my desire and my friend. It is my desire to be a friend. It is my poison and my medicine. It is everything. I love my firefly.
Continue readingFor my girl
by The Hsenura
Not many adjectives,
Nor much sense,
I wish to write
For my girl, but
She doesn't like poetry.
To put it simple
Without thesaurus,
Her eyes, brows, nose,
Short hair and smile,
Together reminds one--
......
Whispers of ghosts
by Daniel Ryan Cotler
I've worn the weight of the world on my shoulders,
sustained by a lifetime of wounds,
inflicted by others,
but mostly by myself.
The ghosts of my past—
my father, my stepmother—
they etched their voices into my mind,
a relentless echo,
whispering lies that I'm not enough,
that love was something I’d never deserve.
......
82. Off The Walls
by Kea Campbell
Can you wait, or is it time to lash out from hate?
They manipulate and degrade your brain until the cancer takes over and mental illness starts to control you and rash emotions disown your logic until there's no more room for the kind side of you.
But you fight back until the flashbacks cut loose to past relapses and on my arms I read maps and I'm retracing old paths because I've seen these patterns before and now they're reborn just to let me tour for four years what it's like to restore my core only to find out that that time was pre-war to this year's deplore.
I'm hurdling redundancy and ducking self-destruction like Temple Run running from peers but the light flickers dim like a BIC and every time I look back and to the front I consider reversing the roles to play the hunter.
Oops, I meant haunter because it's the little things that make or break your sane until the only options are "It's fine, I'm okay" or planning the date you pave your fate to the grave.
Watch out for Lady Karma when you start dumping your drama like trauma from childhood but that's no excuse for the Hell you put me through because if you're consuming my lyrical bis with reiteration permits you're old enough to quit playing victim and narcissist and egoist;
Well shoot, here's a list: self-proclaimed Jesus' kid, two faced, evil, villain, r(e)aper (of joy), dishonest, fake friend who's in it to win it but 'it' is a Hell ticket, one-way, so enjoy the adult beverages and good luck with the glass of flames.
......
Whispers of ghosts
by Daniel Ryan Cotler
I've worn the weight of the world on my shoulders,
sustained by a lifetime of wounds,
inflicted by others,
but mostly by myself.
The ghosts of my past—
my father, my stepmother—
they etched their voices into my mind,
a relentless echo,
whispering lies that I'm not enough,
that love was something I’d never deserve.
......
The flirting bride
by Lynda Grine
I wonder what your memories taste like
A toxic gin tonic?
A flirty dark and stormy?
Take a walk around my lips
Caress me from the inside
Draw pretty flowers on my hips
Gently steal me as your bride
Cry me a river
by Grace Hough
Cry me a river
and a lake
I've been hoping for you
to feel my mistake
the liquid is deep red
from fresh lines it bled
the skin that's open stings
as I sit here waiting for your ring.
Cry me a river
......
Mama wants
by Author Reinvented
Mama just wants a perfect Daughter,
Expectations keep coming like drops of water,
Drip,
Drip,
Soon the cup spills over.
Mama doesn't know,
She doesn't try to understand,
The expectations overflow.
......
