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When a little boy cries, we hold him and tell him,
“it’s okay”
But when he becomes a man, we push him away,
“hey now, don’t be ga..”

Yet you’re happy to be everything to everyone, even if it
gives the impression that it benefits you the most – bend
a bone to break yourself, to prove you belong.

But if a man breaks down being honest; be honest, he has
to prove himself – that his tears really belong to his struggles,
to fully showcase everything that is so wrong, to leave an
impression on everyone.

The darkness has counted and held most of my tears, along
with my fears that one day they’ll all be revealed.
Truth is…

I am a private man who tries his best at showing public love;
chromed heart, leather lungs – aiming to avoid a plastic love.
When I fall in love, you’d know, when my words are so tied
up; stringed lips, blurry eyes, and a sponged mind – praying
I don’t easily absorb everything that’s noxious in my life…

And like when your WIFI is low; in desperate times, is when
I start to use my resources so well – resorting to digging away
at my pride, digging to find those quenching waters; a demure
self from a humble well; I find it hard to be well with my own
character development; for as you reveal on all your personal
struggles, some wish you well, and the rest just goes, oh well…

As for right now, I am a man with every decision being made
with a good prayer in mind; respecting all of the days at heart;
it’s through His love I’m still alive, despite these various odds,

I still have this life, thank God!
Mark Wanless Feb 11
i let crime seekers
into the building because
i coward afraid
Blinds descend upon the windows of my soul,
protecting my thoughts that are delicate as glass
Behind me, beyond myself – I gazed beyond
My façade.

I ventured past the exterior— the interior,
yearning to be recognized as a blossom,
and not merely as a
Stubborn ****.

Would someone kiss me, and not make believe –
to make me believe, that their touch won’t
Last me that long.

I’ve known a version of myself
one that’s been way too sad
For long.

To what end,
do we keep
Looking for hope
In empty songs?

"Singing to myself"
Reece Feb 7
When people ask my favorite color,
I often say red or green,
And while I adore them,
It’s a lie.
Then after the conversation,
I wonder, “Why?”
Why did I lie?
What point did it serve?
I question and question,
And this is what I can confirm.

I’m afraid,
Afraid of being judged.
Afraid of the pointed fingers,
And the laughs.
Afraid of being shunned.
Afraid of the chastisement,
And the thought of being outcast.
Why so many fears,
Stem from something so trivial?
I couldn’t answer,
It makes no sense!
Yet something so small,
Feels so consequential,
Making a mountain,
Out of a molehill.
Seems to be my speciality,
Unfortunately.

Perhaps it’s a lack of self-confidence,
So I’m bound to hide any part of me.
That way if I get insulted,
They aren’t addressing me,
Just whatever I told them,
I control the narrative.
How long can one accept,
Living their lives as someone else?
It would feel more freeing,
To stop the lies,
And tell the truth,
But is it worth the risk?
Is the exposure worth the glamour?
Is it worth…
Being me?

I remember when we all had to wear masks,
I hated it.
Yet when the main force of Covid passed,
I kept it on.
Slightly suffocating,
******* all personality,
‘Til I’m nothing,
More than,
Another face,
People pass,
Perhaps a glance,
If I’m lucky.
It’s not as simple,
As just taking the mask off,
If it was,
Do you think I would’ve kept it on?

Trapped in an overthinking mind,
Thought circling,
Swimming fast through the ocean,
No chance of escaping.
The sharks are hungry,
Ready to fill me,
With doubt,
Concern,
A lack of self-worth,
And the biggie,
Anxiety.
If I try to swim away,
I’ll be eaten alive,
Torn apart,
From the inside out.
So at least for now,
My mind is a prison and I’m never gonna get out…

Last year around my birthday,
I wrote a poem similar to this,
Titled “Am I Good Enough?”
A simple question.
I came to the conclusion that I am,
But if I hide, inside,
Is that really living life?

Some lessons that I’ve learned,
Sometimes it’s best to walk the road alone,
The road less traveled,
The road no one else goes,
But the one which will lead you home.
People aren’t always reliable,
Me included,
It’s guaranteed,
Eventually,
They’ll let you down.
And it will hurt you,
When they do,
But they’re human too.
Who make mistakes,
And have regrets,
Filled with stress,
And aren’t perfection,
Despite what they may say.

I often think,
And dread,
What people think of me,
A broken tragic thought,
Excessively haunting.
I think the consensus is,
I’m a stuck-up, narcissist,
Trapped in my own head.
They wouldn’t be entirely wrong,
But I swear,
That’s not me…
I fear that people think I’m too good for them,
So they don’t even bother to connect,
That feeling spreads, and before you know it,
There’s no one left.
In reality,
I’m not that great,
Subpar, at best,
Scraping by with gifts,
I misuse and don’t understand.

I’m painfully introverted,
My shell is very comfortable,
What’s not to love?
Then the loneliness creeps in,
And while I may be satisfied with myself,
People need connection.
Though I don’t need as much as most,
I still need connection.
Yet, I fear,
There’s few who get me,
For me.

I try not to be a pleaser,
But when you’re desperate,
And given attention,
You’d be a fool not to accept it.
Yet, most don’t have the purest intentions,
And abuse,
And misuse,
The kindness they’re given.

I’m tired of sitting in my tower,
Watching from my balcony as others shine,
Questioning if I could do the same,
If I could be half as bright.
As they say,
Sometimes you have to make a leap of faith.
So I will,
I’ll fall,
Not caring what’s below.
Isn’t it better,
To be yourself,
Rather than die a character?
I’ll land on my feet,
And run to the rest,
To prove that I’m worth,
To be in their presence.

So sayonara, somber sorrows,
Farewell, fleeting fear,
Attack, anticipatory anxiety,
And believe,
Things will be fine.
I hope you see,
That the simplest things to confess,
To the overthinking mind,
Can tear me to pieces,
With nothing left to find.

I’ll be myself,
For all I can be, is me,
And though sometimes I may despise me,
I wouldn’t want to be anyone else.
So…
My name is Reece Allen Ellison,
And my favorite color is…
Pink
Mark Wanless Feb 6
this is just a swag
scientific wild *** guess
more asteroids soon
Jacob Jan 28
Upon these stones we are met
Before the void of inky wet
Gather our joy from these rocks
For we make delight as the dancing fox
Stand you creature of fae
Where in the **** was the right way
Tried finding a path to a beach to meet a friend and could not find the right way. Ended up driving to another beach and walked a mile along the sand
Jacob Jan 28
The depth of rage sees the force of sorrow and wishes to be one. Rage wants to be and pushes themself to be kind. Only joy is wished upon sorrow in their neighboring hole. To dig a tunnel between began with hopes to raise each other out of the depths. Rage sees themself and knows their own rot must be cleaned before being a kind force to sorrow. Scraping away while in hatred of their own being.

What is done with an intention of love comes from a background of hurt, and rage is unable keep that out. They reach to hold sorrow, but can only dig in by the fingertips. They open their mind, to be closer, to be known completely, but spill words that have only harmed. Rage only wishes the sum total shows the good they attempt, but can only see the harm they have done.
I did not mean to be cruel, but I was not kind. The tunnel dug has started to cave in. Even with supports the walls will be fragile, but I will spend my time reinforcing them. I will spend my time continuing to dig handholds until sorrow and rage reach joy.
Jacob Jan 24
I am the monster in chains held by a lock of my own teeth
I am the lure that controls the angler fish
I am the wolf in sheep's clothing that wishes to be the sheep
I am a friend of the humanity I wish to destroy
Self acceptance and societal integration is tricky
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