the question. poem
The cement of life.
Shattering glass.poem
Looking through the glass of wine in hand. I see this sweet melody carrying me away. Cheers to my faded existence. I guess I just never expected to find you. Now lost in my rage. I break down the walls I built around me. Where am I in this hell, God...
Beginning again...
Save i remember what it once was, what everyone i knew gave the memory strong enough to survive another day as the edge draws nearer, i dare not look away the result is known, the miles closing ahead alive i still am, yet, my heart sinking, my life
Hear---Eye---M.....
Poetry, slice of life, descriptive short story, perspective **hear---eye---m.....** two feet guide a body, hands give life to action a mind wanting gives into physical satisfaction defined by what's seen, shown, till more is known we rearrange with our
Serenity....
Descriptive poetry, poem, slice of life serenity....
Breath taking...
Could endure a goodbye inevitable i'm sure the cliff side breaking underneath from our weight i won't be stopped, i will change whatever our fate arms twisting, cracks felt beyond painful explanation i'll lift you to safety with unbroken motivation my life
Sky Diving...
Lightly float down, to walk again with a mixture of relief & sorrow feet firm to the ground, the thrill faded into me only a memory could i see for another short while, i'd walk among the colony of those who rarely saw a perspective bigger than themselves, life
Just a minute...
Poetry, poem, slice of life the air was heavy, hard to breath in i was losing continuousness, i couldn't see where to begin the steps were uneven, my ground was shaking as i blinked, i found myself continuously waking every time, sleeping a little longer
Call me deathpoem
Up and down I say. Up and down I fell. Not quite sane. Not quite real. The angles did not hear the angles did not fell. demons of hell help me heal. Call me death. A demon of this world. Pain no more. Pleasure all day. Pride I feel no matter the...
Depths of Myself
A fire that truly burns my already slivered mind, if my life were a song, if a lordly hand attempted to place me upon the turn table and spin, such noise to deafen the sounds all joy or any other positive emotion, and that noise would over shadow the very
The Rose
Something's changed The clouds turn black And the demons still remain insane Everyday is a new battle of survival Hearing the usual daily quotes "Survival of the fittest" "The weak will perish" As i look into the mirror I see the imperfect...
Candle of Hope
Society has told us in order to get better take medications to get rid of depression to end the suicidal thoughts have we become so dependent on medicine that we must sacrifice our own health in order to heal when an individual decides to end their life