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ash May 13
i've got something,
a feeling of all sorts

if there's anything i have learned
through the entirety of my growth
it's to know and understand
and find the right moment
where i have to twist and wring and pull
such a tight knot in my chest,
just so none of my feelings
would sleep anywhere close
to those they are concerned for
or took birth 'cause of

barely tried for 407 hours,
simply gave up

always a mix and combination of almost
never the forever
always a something,
never the nothing's everything

i will wring out my heart
until every single drop
of this newly found heartbreak
breaks me from within
and does not seep
into anyone else's thought

but what if i meant
i wanted to disappear
only to be found
by the one who has enough time
and enough want
to actually search for me?

some days i despise
having this weak, old, ratty heart
that is attached to the tip of my finger,
not even the sleeves—
and slips itself
into the pocket of anyone
who so much as breathes

do not despise the love i feel
(even though doing the gulp of acceptance
is like drinking lemon
straight from the pet it's found in.)
Asher Graves May 3
In beauty's embrace, majestic with grace

Soothing, yet a lingering sense of sadness filled up the place,

Unwanted thoughts wind up like a haphazardly tied lace

Been alone countless times won't deny

Maybe it'll be over soon, sighs

I did cry, but I won't pry, I must try and try and try, relentlessly, I don't know why?

Something tells me to do so, and no I won't ask any questions, I'm too tired.

My head feels heavy and it feels cold

Yes, I am a reckless fool, but let truth be told,

hold up, behold,

A free soul, got locked up, in a stronghold, due to freefall, did a reroll, felt an unease, faulty threshold, with a default,
Setting.

Yet I thrived on, not with violence, but with a smile on,
Dreams engulfed in darkness, yet persevered and fight on.
Emotions masked, I fight on, a battle of silence, I reckon

I'm a lost soul at a crossroad, with no hope, yet I try on,
I hold my head up high, a bit shy, but I try
To change the narrative, to rewrite my sky.

I see the highs, I see the lows,
Life's a cinematic film, beautifully composed.
It's real though, no retries, no cheats,
A mistake made, a life fades, "Scream!" echoes in the streets.

Skill issue, you say? Perhaps it's true,
The presence of another is a dream I pursue.

Alas, my fumbling technique never ceases to amuse,
Back to solitude, melancholy's muse.

Walking up the road less travelled by, devoid of any gleam,
A haunting daydream, or so it would seem.

No destination, no direction, just endless extremes,
A conflicted response, a ghastly gleam.

Alone through the time, a truth I've known,
Helplessness grips, a silent pathetic moan.

Guilty, vulnerable, yet a soul set free,
I hate to admit it, but I won't concede.

Heartbreaks, anxieties, failures persist,
Giving up is foolishness, not on my list.

Break me, bury me, all for your thrill,
My body may perish, but never will my will.

Intrusive thoughts roam around, Like I’m fallin’ off of a cliff
The desire to bounce back is sharper than you think
I'm not the one who's drowned here man,
I stand alone, like a “Poneglyph”
My spirit untouched, my soul unbound like a monolith

A rowdy spirit, scorned with disdain,
I'll mock you still, throughout the pain.

I choose my role and I define my fate,
Your words, your arrogance, I disrespectfully negate.

In defiance, I speak with a voice loud and clear,
"The path is treacherous, hearts break, I fear."

The soul’s burnin’, seeking a purpose anew,
To burn it all down, tired of feeling blue.

A voice echoes, a spiteful chill,
Fate falters frivolously front of a mortal's will,
The birth of a legend, just like the Hercules’ will

The poem concludes, a profound standstill,
A journey through emotions, in verses that I instill.
                                                                             -Asher Graves
This poem is a reflection of the silent wars we fight within—the chaotic harmony between vulnerability and resilience. It's about walking alone when no one understands, yet refusing to lay down even when everything screams “give up.” I wrote this during a moment of mental fog and emotional exhaustion, where the only clarity came from putting feelings into form.

The piece isn't polished with comfort. It’s jagged and heavy on purpose. Life doesn't come in neat stanzas, and neither does healing. You'll find scattered metaphors, anime references, poetic contradictions, and a stubborn flame that keeps burning—because even in brokenness, there's defiance. Even in solitude, there's meaning.

This is for anyone who’s felt like a background character in their own story, who’s laughed through tears and masked scars with smiles. You're not alone in your silence. This is me screaming back at the void, not to be heard—but to remind myself that I'm still here.

Keep fighting, even if it’s just to prove the silence wrong.

— Asher Graves
Artis Apr 28
They say life is a show that must go on,
but what happens when the show is over,
when the music fades,
the sun sets, and the curtains close?

Will everyone forget the wrong I've done,
the pain I caused?
Will they clap when the show is over—
find reasons for me to be missed?

Will the ones I love—
when they feel empty—
keep me
in their memory?

I've caused pain,
made people cry,
broken hearts—
but will any of that matter
when the curtains close?
Tears have been shed.
Will they care what I've done?
Will they stutter my name?

Will I be able to rest easy—
knowing everyone thinks of me fondly,
and leaves out the rest?

The ones who once hated me,
will they be able to forget,
and love me for the memory I bring—
leave out the rest?

Please, find a reason for me to be missed.
Forget the rest.

Time is ticking—
I only have so much—
time,
before the curtain
makes the credits roll.

Please, don't resent me
for the things I've done.

Leave the hatred,
leave the pain,
the tears—
with the closing curtains.
Find reasons to miss me.
Let me live as a fond memory—
before my time comes,
and the curtains close.
Io! Maestro dell'essere,
mente a scacchi,
pronta a muovere la prossima pedina
con apatia e ordine. Ordine.

Non implorerò, mai, di avere
un nuovo paio di occhi
che non vedano in bianco e nero,
magari solo meno ingenui, idioti.

Ormai non mi vedo più nello specchio:
spalle, alzate.
Schiena, inarcata.
Capo chino. Pietoso. Indegno!

** già tutto quello che mi serve:
mani di pietra e velluto,
una fronte, rugosa, che parla,
risate tra il folle, e il nobile. Nobile.

///

Me! Master of being,
chess mind,
ready to move the next pawn
with apathy and order. Order.

I will, never, beg to have
a new pair of eyes
that do not see in black and white,
maybe just less naive, idiotic.

I no longer see myself in the mirror:
shoulders, raised.
Back, arched.
Head bowed. Pitiful. Unworthy!

I already have everything I need:
hands of stone and velvet,
a forehead, wrinkled, that speaks,
laughter between the madman, and the noble. Noble.
When you know yourself, you can start love your evilness
Joshua Phelps Apr 17
baby, don't
misunderstand

internal
struggles
are a mess

all i've got
is hope

that one day,
i'll find solid
ground

so i can return
to myself

and safely land.

return to sender,
i will not surrender;

this postcard is
a testament.

i promise you that
my will is strong,

and i will find
solace and center

because
i didn't make
it this far

to give up
on a future
together,

forever.

so baby, please
understand

internal
struggles
are a mess.

all i've
got is hope

and my word
that one day,

i'll return
to myself

and safely land.
inspired by nsync’s “this i promise you.”

a poem about loving someone deeply—even while fighting to return to yourself.

this is a promise written in the quiet.
Chris Apr 15
I hear the feet steps rush past me
It's a daily occurrence but I'm tired
Of given attention to those that hear me
But can never see me as I am
Stuck in reverse where I look to the past
Beging to be looked passed
Screaming banging on this wall of glass
To be set free from my unrequited sanctuary
It's my own fault I quarantined myself
Was it for self preservation
or simply outta fear
to get near
what I can't understand
Or preservation from all this anguish
The past refuses to release me from
I don't mean to be who I am
Do you not understand me?!?
Or did I never give you that opportunity
All I won't is unity
To hold your hand in mine
To be given love so divine
But how can I ask for that
When I'm stuck behind my house of glass
Waiting to be shattered
Yet I have no stones to throw for that matter
Please just try let me
be seen through to my core
But I do want to show you so much more
Push pass my past
I'm my own worst enemy
I can't deny that fact the mirror mocks me
My reflection distorted
A faceless figure of who I believe is me
Screaming....screaming....stop screaming
My ears are bleeding
I don't mean to be who I am
Please believe me
I never wanted to hurt you
I know my silence is deafening
But it's my only mask I have
Tragic as it is I'm my own nightmare
Trapped hiding behind my wall of glass
That only reflects the things I can't get past
Do you understand?!?
I don't mean to be who I am
I scream again
It's useless I been like this for years
I say through my eyes pooling with tears
Drowning in my own demise
Why can't I get past this disguise
I never wonted to be alone
By this self inflicted fate
Because I push anyone that might
Break my glass
My hellish sanctuary
That protects me?!?
from what.....
Something i no longer desire
See me look pass my distorted image
If I let you......
I will let you
Do you understand?!
Just please hold my hand
An promise me this
That I truly won't die alone
Cuz all I require is unity
Someone to understand
Can you Understand?!?




                      PLEASE......
Writen by my girlfriend.
Ahmed Gamel Apr 14
I met a version of myself,
A past that lived in quiet hell,
His shoulders weighed with untold truths,
In his eyes, the ghosts of youth.

He stood, proud but lost inside,
A prisoner of dreams denied,
I knelt in shame, a ghost of me,
Torn between what was and could be.

"You know," I said, "you've been this way,
Caught in a cage where shadows play,
But let me tell you, now I see,
You're still inside of me, and free."

He smiled with pain, the truth untold,
"I never wanted this, you know—
This life of striving to please the blind,
The masks we wore, the thoughts we mined."

But in his eyes, I saw the change,
A flicker in the dark, so strange,
And I realized, as time flew past,
We'd both been caught, both built to last.

Now here I stand, no more a slave,
No longer bound to past’s dark wave,
I freed myself, and freed him too,
The shackles gone, the world anew.

And though the road remains unclear,
I hold his voice, I hold it near,
For in his steps, I see my own—
The strength I’ve sought, now fully grown.

The shame, the guilt, they start to fade,
Replaced by light, by love’s cascade,
And in that moment, I finally see,
That all I sought was always me.
This piece delves into the internal struggle of reconciling with past mistakes and the weight of self-imposed expectations. The conversation between present and past selves brings out the complexity of personal growth and the forgiveness needed to move forward. It's about understanding that even in the darkest moments, there's a path to healing—by embracing the truth, forgiving yourself, and realizing that growth is a journey, not an instantaneous transformation.
Ahmed Gamel Apr 13
I chased a river that flowed not for me,
A desert thirst, in need of a touch,
But it never quenched, nor did it set me free—
A ghost of water, the hollow's crutch.

Yet still I ran, for the race was the relief,
And the thirst was never gone,
The closer I came, the deeper my grief,
But I knew, I knew, I had to move on

One side craves the fleeting touch,
Another longs for something real,
Both of them, a tangled clutch,
Waging war inside my mind's steel.

I feel the pull, the burn, the tug,
Both sides whispering to my soul—
One says, "Stay," the other says, "Let go,"
And I am left, alone, with no control

The screen glows with false embrace,
A fleeting balm to soothe my pain,
A world of warmth in pixel’s grace,
But as it fades, so does the gain.

The comfort, fleeting, like morning mist,
It wraps me up, then fades away—
But in that warmth, my heart persists,
To search for solace, come what may

Beyond the Glass
I seek a hand I cannot touch,
A voice that whispers through the screen,
In virtual spaces, I crave so much,
The love I’ve never yet seen.

But still, I reach, I yearn, I chase,
For something more than pixel's light—
I long to find a sacred space,
Where hearts can meet beyond the night

What am I but fragments, torn,
Pieces scattered in the dust?
I need to rebuild, from what I’ve mourned,
Relearn the way, and find the trust.

I see the cracks, but there’s no fear,
Only a chance to fill the space—
To build anew, to reappear,
To find my strength, to find my place

A clash of needs, a war of wants,
One says to chase the fleeting thrill,
Another urges, “Wait, be strong,”
The heart is torn, the soul stands still.

For what is comfort but a cage?
And what is pain but growth’s sweet sting?
To choose the short-term for the wage,
Or face the future, and let it sing?

I wander through the uncertain haze,
The road unknown, but filled with choice,
A path unmarked, in shadowed maze,
I seek a light, I seek a voice.

What is it all, but one grand test?
The answers fade before my eyes—
But in the struggle, in the quest,
I find the truth beneath the lies

I stare into the glass that cracks,
And find a face I do not know—
The cracks are me, but not the facts,
The truth is hidden in the glow.

Who am I, when all is gone?
A shadow lost, a broken dream?
But in the void, I carry on,
For in my mind, I still may gleam.
This poem explores the profound struggle between seeking temporary comforts and the longing for deeper, meaningful connections. It reflects on the internal battle we often face when seeking relief from pain, yet realizing that those quick fixes don’t fulfill our true desires for growth and real connection. It’s an honest dive into the complexities of human emotions, inner conflict, and the search for something more lasting in a world full of fleeting distractions.
Stardust Apr 11
This consistent need to change
This burning desire to be better
Am I slowly changing for good
Or is it good that I am changing ?
I think a lot, speak a little
I dream a lot, act a little
This constant void that I feel in my Life
Why, why, why, I think to myself yet again
Caught in this trap of monotonous mind battles
Every day, I look into the mirror at my reflection, and all these thoughts pop into my mind. Sometimes they’re kind, sometimes they’re unkind—just passing through as they please. But this ordeal feels so monotonous, like I’m living in a bubble.
Ana21 Apr 4
I wear the mask of too many roles,
Caretaker, rebel—lost in their tolls.
I give, I bend, but never break,
Hiding parts of me for others' sake.

I ask myself, "Is this enough?"
Is my best a gift, or a never-ending bluff?
I wonder if they see the cracks inside,
The parts of me I’ve tried to hide.

When things go wrong, I pull away,
Lost in regret, in a sea of dismay.
I cry, I doubt, I ask, “Why me?”
Stuck in the same cycle, never free.

I fear they’ll see me as a lie,
Fake, rude, disloyal—just a disguise.
But deep within, I know the truth,
I hide, I shrink, to avoid the proof.

I suppress the honesty, the raw, the real,
For fear they’ll judge what they can’t feel.
I keep my truth locked far away,
A prisoner of my own dismay.

Isolation brings a fleeting peace,
But it’s the silence that won’t cease.
With the few who truly see,
I try to feel what it means to be me.

But even in those moments, I fear,
That I’ll be left, unseen, unclear.
So I wonder, in the quiet of night,
Am I enough, or just a fight?

I don’t know what my purpose is yet,
But in this struggle, I’ve learned to forget.
I’m supposed to lead, but all I see,
Are the shattered pieces of who I could be.

I carry self-doubt and endless strain,
Validation from others, my constant chain.
But in the dark, I’m left to roam,
Wishing for a place to call home.
This reflects the internal struggle of feeling torn between roles, doubting one's worth, and fearing judgment. It explores the weight of emotional isolation, the constant search for validation, and the silent yearning to break free from self-imposed chains. The rawness of vulnerability and the quiet longing for peace echo throughout. It’s a reflection on the pain of self-doubt and the struggle to find one’s authentic voice.
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