"Emerging Writers, Serious Writers"

since 2009

Poetry, Prose & More. Join Us!

selfreflection

  • Eager
    Far too eager
    Sliding into the empty barstool
    Beside me
  • I haven't eaten in days.
    Ad days have eaten me away.
    But I guess this is okay;
    For life doesn't need me anyways.
  • Why can't I ever look good in your eyes.
    Images and memories just flashing by. 
    I put in so much effort 
    But to you it doesn't matter because its not perfect. 
    Alone you treat me like dirt but in public you bury all the hurt. 
    You show people you with your mask on 
    Afraid to reveal what's really going on. 
  • I've never been one to judge, 
    But it's come time for your reckoning. 
    Justified injustice of character, 
    Quite subpar. 
  • Take and not give
    You shall exist
    Never living
    Right

    Into baleful claims
    We impart from within
    Finding, parting
    Wrong
  • A ripped shell holds the inevitable
    The lost vow thought unbreakable
    Her swollen core cracking slowly
    Freeing the feelings she thought so lowly
  • What is it like to not be judged in a world where being yourself is just not enough? What is it like to be yourself and get a hug without being judged and getting mugged by someone who barely even knows you but they’re scared of what they think they know but don’t know anything about so they lash out on you and lose control, funny right? But I guess that’s how life goes people get mad about things they can’t control. How does it feel to be loved by someone who sees all your imperfections as a high and can see themselves with you for the rest of your life?
  • I can never seem to get anything right. Whether that has been with love or with friends and it gets me frustrated. I wonder sometimes is it because the act I put on, this Mr nice guy act, the yes man. The act of defense to gain acceptance and trust from peers and even to gain love, but it never seems to work.
  • My darling soul,

    Let's brave these deserts

    As they are pure and authentic!

  • We’ve got time.

    Everyone always says “we’ve got time”

    But what is time…

    How much time do we have…

    How can you make me such an empty

    and futile promise.

    We’ve got time!?

     

    We’ve still got time…

  • I came to you with my wings ripped against my will like a wingless bird locked in a golden cage,
    I long to fly free above the skies, 
    beyond the stars and moon, 
    but i came to you to mend my wound,
    For the pain of worldly deception and contempt had left me bleeding,
    that i cry every night, silently, 
    weeping deep inside, loudly,
     
  • I yearn for death in the small of my back,

    Every crack in my bones ache for the pain. 

    I crave the feeling of a blade vertically down my wrist 

    The slipping of consciousness.

  • abort your idealistic views. 
    Your physical certainty is lack lustered, 
    Coated with inadequacy. 
  • Life is hard
    It gets really hard sometimes
    From small things,
    Small fears, small worries, small problems
    Day by day it gets piled up
    Thought I’ve able to take a control of it
    Thought I’m already okay
    Without realizing that those piles are actually still there
    Until one single thing added up to those pile
    Causing all of them to break apart
    That’s when I realize
    I’ve never been okay
    Those small things are piling up
    To the point where I can’t bear anymore
    Where I fall to my knees
    And my tears break
    I feel like I barely hold on
    I wish I could just let go everything
    I wish I could end all of these
    Is dying the answer?
    To end all the pain I hold in this world
    The pain of incapable of doing anything
    The pain of keep wishing life will get better but never knowing when
    The pain of trying to live with this pain
     
  • Overwhelmed. 
    Scared. 
    Paranoid. 
    Frightened. 
    These are a few of the words I use to describe myself. 
  • I studied the rain drops glide down the glass of the window.
    I voluntarily let the nostalgia pound at my chest.
    With every aching memory, I finally shed the tears that were trying to evaporate instead of pour out.
    Eventually, the window and I had the same amount of water drip downward upon us.
    I am the window.
    Still and innocently being pounded with the various weather.
  • When roses bleed thorns-
    it’s time to prune them.
    Waiting for seasons to change-
    is like waiting for silence to resolve-
    conflicts- a game of pride and rank.
  • I wasn't able to blow a balloon
    Wasn't able to let it fly to the moon
    I told my dad and he laughed
    Got me another and a dozen more 
    So I kept them safely in a room and closed the door
    Opened the door everyday
    to check on them but not to play
    One week later they stopped flying 
    They never reached the moon
    They were on my floor dying 
    I also never blew a balloon