Poetry Blogs (Mania)
poemagraphic on Standing at the cross roads between life and death (41 minutes ago)
Ghazala Lari on Standing at the cross roads between life and death (3 hours ago)
Whenever the bell rings.
Time to change so soon?
Oh thankyou for the gloom
Its not like I needed mental room
I'll just listen to your tune.
Is it time for bed,
Or are you not done yet?
This endless strain of thoughts
Feeling like I'm making a case In front of the courts
Barely awake, but barely conscious?
You'll wish you'd had your bedroom blessed
Wednesday 22nd August 2018 5:24 pm
You try to escape the demons
But they latch on way too tight,
Their claws digging into my body
And mind, with all their might.
Fighting is exhausting,
It physically and mentally drains.
But still I endure it, hoping
One day I will finally escape the pain.
Tuesday 19th June 2018 10:05 pm
Each day, more exhausting than the last.
Time goes far too slowly, or too fast.
you're either extremely low, or elevated.
People either love you, or you're hated.
There is no middle ground
- no inbetween.
Everything is one extreme.
you're either Jekyll or you're Hyde.
It is a never ending fight.
You're a walking contradiction ,
With no explanation,
Monday 18th June 2018 3:58 pm
We were born sick
But we adore it,
Living on the edge,
The dual extremes
in which we thrive,
are eating us alive.
Devouring our souls,
Ripping us apart,
Yet wholesome we feel
With our demons so close,
Sat upon our shoulder
Whispering to us, sins..
Orders upon orders
to which we must follow.
Monday 18th June 2018 3:29 pm
Shallowly sagging in vicious winds of a cold autumn night,
The grass vibrates me a tune as I wander forwards through green and yellow forest,
Blissful mist of rain creating small fluorescent puddles on my skin.
The acidic thorns of men once stood behind the walls of fantasy seeping into the water,
Scorching my skin,
Red splotches ooze remnants of a world once to have been seen ...
Thursday 31st August 2017 8:24 am
5th grade was my downfall
Anxiety coupled with A.D.D
Made for the perfect broken marriage.
6th grade was calm.
I had everything under control
And I was taking medication
But 7th grade was morbid.
One only the devil could produce,
Had arrived with the diseased name
8th grade was the year Depression made friends
Wednesday 13th April 2016 4:30 pm
I stare at your back, as if a portrait
Wednesday 8th October 2014 6:54 pm
I sit in my room alone but with a presence
My nerves are like lightning, electrified and effervescent
After an all night vigil, the day breaks through the sky
My bodies finely programmed, just like my wired up mind
The voices in my head command me wisely
While the messages from the telly inform me concisely
On my objectives, plans and aims
To go outside on a mi...
Tuesday 29th October 2013 9:40 pm