952 posts
  • writeendlessly 2w

    I've always known your true colors.
    The painful truth.
    Ive seen the clear picture from its honest perspective.
    You painted a version with elaborate colors mixed with false words.
    Everyone else, saw what they wanted to see.

    I saw what I needed to see.

    The paint has dried, and now there is no excuse.
    They see what I've always known.

    You can't touch this up. You can't fix this.
    Not with out admitting youre a fraud.

    Even a snake, no matter how beautiful it looks, still has a deadly bite.

  • orfayus 5w


    A notion and
    Motion; blur-
    Past your eyes

    The sacred sacred water
    The ocean
    Of your emotion


    Forth from the
    of your potions

    My streams run
    From them

    @orfayus <insta

  • orfayus 5w

    Coal Belt Mentality

    And veins of
    Steel tracks
    Riding the heights
    Of despair
    And a tearing
    Inkling of coal
    Defeatist failures and
    Wresting the trigger-
    A typewriter
    Can't stay the
    Day eating away
    At your heart
    There is a trouble
    With being born
    And torn apart
    By the meaningless

    Insta: @orfayus


  • writeendlessly 11w


    When you try something new,
    You're likely to fail.
    When you keep trying,
    You're learning from your mistakes.
    When you don't give up,
    When you fight,
    When you take control of the situation.
    People will notice.
    They will notice the effort.
    They will notice who you are.
    They will notice your strength.
    When you fail.
    Try again.
    Keep trying until, that obstacle, becomes a triumph.
    Try until you are proud of the journey that brought you here.

  • sadfuck 13w


    Why this day
    Why this year
    I am crawl up into a ball of mist and disappear into thin air
    I feel hurt
    I feel distraught
    Disgusted with myself
    I wanna change
    I need to change
    I try
    They say ...

    Taught from a young age coping is the best solution
    I cant leave my own shell or solve my own irresolution.
    I struggle I panic
    I make rash decision
    I've now gained an unhealthy addiction to help me cope
    As awful as it sounds it makes me have hope
    It makes me feel bliss
    It's so awful it makes me sick

  • writeendlessly 14w

    Tell me, what is it
    you plan to
    do with your
    wild and presious life?

  • writeendlessly 15w

    As the cold breeze tickles your face,
    It shuffles your hair out of place,
    You smile warmly,
    As you tuck the burgenden escapees
    Back behind your ear.
    The wind kicks up and you start to shiver.
    Your dark brown eyes,
    Motion to me to keep you warm.
    My arms wrapped around you,
    My nose nuzzled so gently into your hair.
    Cirtus: a memory trigger. A scent I never knew I longed for.
    I hold you, as a whirlwind of brisk air travels around us.
    We are close, keeping one another warm.
    Your head lays on my chest.
    I wonder, can you hear it beat? The thumping against my chest, can you hear it intensify?
    I wonder if the Rhythm of your heart changes too.

  • writeendlessly 16w

    You try.
    You fail.
    You try.
    You fail.
    The you try again.
    The only true failure
    in life
    Is when you
    stop trying.

  • wifey_suicide 26w

    To My Next Boyfriend,

    I’m not the best at introductions, but I’ll tell you one thing for sure is that, you fell into the right hands.

    I don’t know how to cook, but I clean.

    I don’t how to fix a car, but I can show you how to draw a face.

    I am an artist and a poet.
    I just have a lost for words.

    I have my own book and I can make you laugh.

    I stutter a lot.

    I do have somewhat of sociopathic traits, but that doesn’t mean I won’t worry about you.

    I like to hold hands and I like to walk bare foot.

    I enjoy all kinds of music, but you’ll find me listening to violins on a good day.
    On a sad days, I don’t talk so much.

    I can’t promise you that we’ll be together forever, but I can promise you that I will always have my heart set on you.

    I can promise that one day I’ll really be in love with you, but I can’t promise that you’ll feel the same way too.

    Your next girlfriend


  • jordynbrower 27w

    Not really a poem, but just a poetic snippet from a novel I'm working on. @mirakee @writersnetwork #time #novel #snippet #constructs #freewrite #freeverse

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    I know time ends because I've seen it. I saw it the day it came to take my parents away from me. I saw it end the day that winters ceased to exist. I saw it end when the whales went extinct. I saw it end when our country turned against us, when they took away my belongings, my heart, everything. I saw it through a crystal-clear timepiece... that time is indeed always moving, but at the same time, it only moves in one direction, and reaches closer and closer to the edge, until it disappears beneath the sun, and transforms into a distant memory. Time, to me, is something created by the human imagination. It makes sense while not making sense at all, and exists only on the idea that anything exists at all.

  • jordynbrower 27w


    I saw myself in the mirror tonight.

    I looked deep into the reflection and truly analyzed...

    Every crevasse

    Every tear

    Every line

    Every strain

    Every picture of raw emotion printed upon my canvas...

    I analyzed it all.

    By the time I had backed up from the reflection

    I no longer understood

    I couldn't understand.

    What was she doing here?

    Who was she?

    Most importantly,

    What had she taken away from me?

    Why had she left me here...





    I didn't understand.

    And perhaps I didn't want to understand

    Perhaps I didn't need to understand.

    But what I did understand was...

    There was a ghost she left behind.

    She was beautiful, a miracle, an angel.

    I guess I didn't know her as well as I thought I did.

    I took too long, didn't I?

    It's too late now.

    Her wings are being torn out

    Ripped to shreds

    And discarded into oblivion.

    I miss her


    I have no idea who she is...

    Or who I am...

    Or where she came from...

    Or where I came from...






    Nothing else.

  • darylannnnnnn 28w

    From the busy streets of the city
    I am now caged in my room
    I have always wondered when
    When will the streets be empty
    At night?

    The city where I have chased my dreams
    Where I meet people that I made memories with
    The city where I was free
    I miss it even though I felt heavy


  • wifey_suicide 36w


    It feels like nobody wants me to be around
    So I just swallow my emotions and pound
    Pound on my head because I can’t get the demons out of my head
    To afraid to ask for meds
    Since we all know, they’re no different then lead
    Acid and rain
    I’m so in pain
    No matter what I do
    I can’t seem to fit myself in my own shoes
    My mother smiles above the devil horns
    While my father pretends to wear the halo
    While my siblings are just getting out of the cradle
    With venomous fangs that are fatal
    Miranda rights sit underneath the dining room table
    As we sit there quietly
    We all know that this isn’t harmony
    We all just feel the anxiety
    That we cover with the money
    Of our part time jobs
    That we pretend to love
    So we can feel loved


  • jordynbrower 45w

    WARNING: Possibly triggering for anyone with PTSD. Please read safely.

    I wrote this a while back, ended up deleting it, but it feels weird to not have it on my profile.

    @mirakee @writersnetwork #abuse #mentalhealth #awareness #childabuse #depression #anxiety #broken #freewrite #freeverse #thirdperson #perspective

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    For years upon years
    I pondered why her quill quivered so
    And why she stroked me so belligerently.

    Her tears covert…
    Fabricating a crater through my core.
    It wasn’t until that Midnight
    When I perceived the fiends
    Who clawed and untangled the masses
    Which composed her mind.

    Rewiring what was once lustering.
    Mangling the fantasies into accounts of reality.
    At night her bellows would penetrate my frailty
    Eventually, her wails would fail.

    My heart would terminate.
    Afar, the moon would clamor.
    The Earth would stop
    A shatter would erupt.

    And as the years tumbled over the others,
    He knew what he did
    When she uttered,
    “The Sad things make me happy.”

  • jordynbrower 45w

    Too Loud, Too Light, Too Bright

    When I fell ill,
    They asked me who was in charge.
    When I fell ill,
    They asked who I follow.
    When I fell ill,
    They told me to leave.

    To risk eternity.
    My soul.
    My heart.
    They despised me.

    Because I disagreed.
    Because I wasn’t contemporary.
    Because I wasn’t them.

    So I fled.
    Ventured between the stars...
    Searching for a leftover beacon.

    Anything that would extend a withered palm
    Anything that would embrace me in a weighted blanket.
    Anything to crush the crystal shards upon my profile.

    You wanna know what I found?
    I found a darkness.
    A midnight so bleak that only I could see.
    You know what He said?

    “You’re welcome here.”
    “Come, sit, rest.”

    That’s when I realized the nights we terrorize
    Are the only breathing truths in this world.
    That what we believed to be holy...
    Was indeed a mere distraction
    From the very soul that binds us together.

    Because not all of us are pure.
    But the dark…
    It’s found in

    Every mirror,
    Every reflection.
    Every vein.
    Every hour.

    This is who we are.
    Slaves to an unknown evil.
    Who pretend to waltz with Light.
    Who strike the midnight air.
    This is who we are... but

    When I fell ill,
    I followed no one.
    For the options I was given
    Were all too loud.

    Too loud,
    Too light,
    Too bright.

  • in_fragments 52w

    "You are the wizard of your own world.
    Your thoughts arrange your universe.

    Thoughts are sometimes hijacked
    by another's dark sorcery, and through a series of unfortunate life events, you were taught that
    you're worthless, unlovable, and unskilled, an object to be desired and acquired, used for labor and flavor then tossed away to repent, and these thoughts feel like they became a part of you.

    They were placed there
    by evil-minded conjurers who aim
    to steal your light and break your spirit
    so they can sell you their solutions.
    They want to make you their self-fulfilling prophecy, illusionists profiting off of your inner anguish.
    But there is a way to get your light back that requires no pay.

    Self-hate is a powerful, pricey potion,
    but self-love is a homebrew far more potent.
    It is a radical move of psychological rebellion, a rejection of conditioning. It is magic.
    Magic that you don't have, but magic that you are. You and it are interchangeable.

    You can shuffle the cards and shift the stars. You can find the strength to shoot fireworks from your fingertips.
    This world may beat you down, but
    the magic lies in what you think of yourself amidst the bloody humiliation, and how you get up afterwards.
    How you spit out the spite, and become
    your own antidote.
    How there are still fireworks brewing
    in those fingers, and how no
    murky curses can snuff out your potential to set the sky alight...
    How whenever they try, it only gives your hands more strength.

    The talks you have with yourself
    are written all over your face, and in your bones and in your aura.
    Confidence and self-assured power
    look good on you."

    Love yourself the way you are right now. Say "I love you" to yourself out loud. What's stopping you?
    #wizard #world #freewrite #confessional #mirakee #writerstolli #pod @writersnetwork

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    You can shuffle the cards and shift the stars. You can find the strength to shoot fireworks from your fingertips.

  • in_fragments 54w

    "February isn't freezing this year,
    it is raining and puddling up instead.
    They're calling for an early spring,
    but it feels more like
    there was no winter at all.
    The days were muddy and mild- humid, even. For the first time,
    there was no snow.
    Barren tree branches
    loom above our heads. They fly about in the warm wind,
    like the bony fingers of elders as they scold
    misbehaving children.
    "Look at the mess you've made!" The trees
    say to us. "Look at how sick I've become...
    you're only making it worse, little one..."
    Their roots, the birds, the sun, and our minds
    are all devolving into confusion.
    Things don't know whether they
    are growing or dying,
    the entire atmosphere is being tossed
    into a tornado
    of uncontrollable change. It's ripping into everything
    and sending objects mercilessly
    into the ether; humanity stands shakily
    at the edge,
    senselessly waiting to fall in.

    But there is still a chill to be felt in the air,
    traces of the season still linger,
    for catastrophe
    doesn't happen all at once.
    It sneaks up,
    like a frog placed in a pot of gradually boiling water,
    doomed not to feel the heat
    until it's being burned alive-
    but we are not frogs, and this earth is not yet
    a boiling pot.
    The same way that climate
    does not equal weather, a lost battle
    does not mean a failed war, and
    the only way out of this
    is through. The only thing to do
    is keep moving. Pay attention. Compile data and ask questions. Rethink everything
    you ever thought you knew, regroup.
    Rinse and repeat.
    We can teach ourselves how to mitigate,
    to stare destruction in the face
    and fight it, tooth and nail, whether we
    end up winning or not.

    Plant native seeds in the soil like life
    plants seeds in your mind-
    seeds of thought, creativity, motivation. Seeds and trees
    are now weaponry.
    Sit in the shade of the forest while you still have it there,
    for the first step to saving the earth
    is simply
    reconnecting with it. Take care
    of yourself, keep away from toxicity.
    Tend to both your internal
    and external environments-
    body and earth-
    and realize that one can directly influence the other.
    The world we know is shifting fast,
    so think about what
    you are going to save.

    Humanity itself is coming to a crossroads.
    A battle between good and evil,
    stasis and destruction,
    life and death,
    is upon us.
    The futute of our existence
    hinges on the brittle branches of leafless trees. Every moment in history
    has culminated into this one:
    Healers or killers? Heroes or cowards?
    A brave new world, or no world at all?
    The choices are up to us.

    What will become of us all
    this spring?"

    Connect to your environment, connect to yourself, and save them both. It's really that simple. But not that easy...
    #narrative #poem #freewrite #climate #change #winter #spring #trees #sky #life #death #change #nature #writerstolli #readwriteunite #writersworld #mirakee #pod @writersnetwork

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    February isn't freezing.

    Seeds and trees
    are now weaponry...

    What will become of us all
    this spring?

  • bloodievampire 59w

    call me baby

    today you call me baby and i felt my heart melt.

    you’re giving me all the reasons to fall in love with you; oh boy i’m head over hills for you.

    it’s shameful how loyal i am to you. i don’t lust this is love i have to put the blame on you.

    today you call me baby and my heart melt, but i fear i’m not the only girl you call baby.

    so please don’t call me baby for that isn’t my name. just keep it simple and plain for my name is jane.


  • bloodievampire 59w

    after dark

    My mind goes in places i do not want; it roams the darkest streets I've never seen before.i stay awake way passed the healthy times im supposed to be asleep. everyday i wake up go to school to try to piece my life together.

    Im fairly happy during the day, but my mind is sick at night. I have no where to run i have no where to hide. Drugs? Alcohol ? im as sober as it gets, but this void i cannot fill. How do i maintain the perfect person everyone sees.

    I'm falling apart in the inside, please believe me i try not to think about all the dark things that drag me into depression. As i said before my mind is sick and after dark i cannot contain the thoughts that bring out the worst in me.

    Its this thing called life that keeps attacking me but day after day i try to pertain the person that everyone around me adores. Im breaking mommy and i wouldn't dare put this burden on you.

    I’ll be very selfish of thinking to take my life away; i won’t front as if i never thought of it before. It seems like after dark im not safe alone with my thoughts to roam. After dark my mind goes in places i do not want..


  • in_fragments 60w

    It's never too late to take back control. 2020 and Beyond. Make it count. ������
    #questions #freewrite #newyear #2020 #writersnetwork #readwriteunite #writersworld #mirakee #writerstolli #pod #poem

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    Existential Questions for 2020 (and Beyond)

    Does magick exist?


    How do you get excited to travel
    when everyone is from everywhere, and there's no place on earth that hasn't already been touched by us?


    Whose idea was it to stuff us into these separate bodies anyway,
    knowing that we all are made up of the same consciousness,
    and where we come from we are one?
    Is it some kind of cosmic irony,
    a joke among the stars,
    that loneliness has always been
    the most visceral,
    the most harrowing,
    of all human emotions?


    Is love so elusive and fleeting
    because these human bodies are
    the real barriers to it?
    Is loneliness in fact more natural for these bodies
    than love?


    When it's clear that someone you love
    can't join you any further on your journey,
    how do you muster up the strength
    to go on without them?


    How can I manifest my art,
    transfer blood cells and brain matter
    into terrifyingly vivid reality,
    when these fleshy hands
    are just so fragile? Is there even a point
    to beginning?


    Are we all just little pieces of God,
    hilariously unaware
    that the individual we are seeking to worship
    is ourself?


    Why do we keep asking questions
    to which we know there are
    no answers?
    Is it because if we found out about them, we would no longer be human?


    Why would our souls be so willing
    to rip themselves apart from each other,
    to experience what it's like to be a mortal individual,
    if we didn't have the privilege
    of complete free will to choose our destiny?
    Will you still say it was never up to you
    when you're old,
    on your deathbed, unfulfilled
    and teeming with regrets?
    Who was supposed
    to make sure you had none?


    Do I still have time?