Poetry Competition Ends 23rd November 2024 3:39pm
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Fighting Suicide
happiness
i can hear the roll-up door at the back of the truck
bouncing up and down
people are honking
i forgot to latch it shut again
i don't care
i hate this job
i'm wondering
if a .380 against my temple would kill me
or just hurt like hell
there's a homeless guy on the corner
beating a lamppost with a tent pole
and with an expression
somewhere between mental illness
and happiness
maybe it's both
could i be happy?
i deal with my loneliness
by stalking a lady on the internet
someone i knew some years ago
that i've come to admire
i obsesse over her
i sent the friend request with a fake name
it felt wrong
it all feels wrong
i wonder
if maybe one day
i could pass out at the wheel
and wake up in another life
bouncing up and down
people are honking
i forgot to latch it shut again
i don't care
i hate this job
i'm wondering
if a .380 against my temple would kill me
or just hurt like hell
there's a homeless guy on the corner
beating a lamppost with a tent pole
and with an expression
somewhere between mental illness
and happiness
maybe it's both
could i be happy?
i deal with my loneliness
by stalking a lady on the internet
someone i knew some years ago
that i've come to admire
i obsesse over her
i sent the friend request with a fake name
it felt wrong
it all feels wrong
i wonder
if maybe one day
i could pass out at the wheel
and wake up in another life
Written by Grae
(Bryan Gray)
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Mental Illness
I don't know what made me want to do this,
Or how I thought it would be glamorous.
While on my break, I was feeling down,
Wondering just why I'm even around.
Back on the clock, I was sweeping the lot;
A cigarette butt appeared on the spot.
It was my job to place it in the trash;
To that, I did – after I got a rash.
That's because, if only on a bad day,
I made my arm out to be an ashtray.
All I can say is, I wasn't thinking,
As self-destruction was in the making.
Friends, when mental illness happens to you,
You do things you normally wouldn't do.
As a result, there are consequences,
And you will be coming to your senses.
For me, all I ever got was a scar
On my arm; that told me I went too far.
The fact that I still work is a blessing;
Otherwise, life could be more distressing.
Or how I thought it would be glamorous.
While on my break, I was feeling down,
Wondering just why I'm even around.
Back on the clock, I was sweeping the lot;
A cigarette butt appeared on the spot.
It was my job to place it in the trash;
To that, I did – after I got a rash.
That's because, if only on a bad day,
I made my arm out to be an ashtray.
All I can say is, I wasn't thinking,
As self-destruction was in the making.
Friends, when mental illness happens to you,
You do things you normally wouldn't do.
As a result, there are consequences,
And you will be coming to your senses.
For me, all I ever got was a scar
On my arm; that told me I went too far.
The fact that I still work is a blessing;
Otherwise, life could be more distressing.
Written by DallasNichols
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I Walk The Line
I walk the line between confidence and suicide, A delicate balance, a tightrope to abide.
One step too far, and the fall is so deep, The darkness below, a secret I keep.
The world sees my strength, my unwavering stride, But inside, a battle rages, a war I can't hide.
Confidence, a mask I wear with such grace, Hiding the turmoil that dwells in this place.
The line is so thin, a razor's edge to tread, Uncertainty looms, a constant dread.
Yet, I press on, determined to find my way, Hoping to reach the light of a brighter day.
One step too far, and the fall is so deep, The darkness below, a secret I keep.
The world sees my strength, my unwavering stride, But inside, a battle rages, a war I can't hide.
Confidence, a mask I wear with such grace, Hiding the turmoil that dwells in this place.
The line is so thin, a razor's edge to tread, Uncertainty looms, a constant dread.
Yet, I press on, determined to find my way, Hoping to reach the light of a brighter day.
Written by Goldy-992
(David Gold)
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Artful drone
The knife that has cut me
recollects pain
My blood, the wine of sorrow
spills for each rank thought
and one sip lost to the seller of morrow
The rope I twine into a noose
complicates me
Seven coils to rid the toils of woe
Delve into the spaces between the fibres
And scribe your thoughts on each strand
Lest the words be forgotten
This pistol has planted a seed
A revolving simmer
The ground swells under its conclusion
Bloom for me
Swoon for me
Blossom in this shallow dusk
Climax at twilight to close its husk
The water that I sink into
coats my breath
My body saturates
as moist azure wrinkles my skin
The liquid light of the darkest hue
lay ripples in my vision
The choices fate hands me
has yet to abandon me
Quiet lyrics writ my heart with euphoria
these thoughts of finality wove into my breath
to lecture this flesh
into permanence
The end I have tailored
sutures my soul to this pelt
My fabric in tatters
draped onto my bones
stifling the chill of repentance
These hands hold my circumstance
This mind bolds my dance
These eyes glance at envy with pry
Save not a wish for me
as I settle this artful drone
recollects pain
My blood, the wine of sorrow
spills for each rank thought
and one sip lost to the seller of morrow
The rope I twine into a noose
complicates me
Seven coils to rid the toils of woe
Delve into the spaces between the fibres
And scribe your thoughts on each strand
Lest the words be forgotten
This pistol has planted a seed
A revolving simmer
The ground swells under its conclusion
Bloom for me
Swoon for me
Blossom in this shallow dusk
Climax at twilight to close its husk
The water that I sink into
coats my breath
My body saturates
as moist azure wrinkles my skin
The liquid light of the darkest hue
lay ripples in my vision
The choices fate hands me
has yet to abandon me
Quiet lyrics writ my heart with euphoria
these thoughts of finality wove into my breath
to lecture this flesh
into permanence
The end I have tailored
sutures my soul to this pelt
My fabric in tatters
draped onto my bones
stifling the chill of repentance
These hands hold my circumstance
This mind bolds my dance
These eyes glance at envy with pry
Save not a wish for me
as I settle this artful drone
Written by Everavalon
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need & want are not the same thing
draped in hollow darkness
bleeding hope into cold shadow
tired of the sound of my own voice
the constant taste of salt coating my cheeks
stiff where it dried untended
closer to over than I’d ever come
prepared to bid farewell
throw in my existence towel
afraid I was no longer strong enough
to keep holding on
feeling more defeated than ever before
exhausted at my deepest core
finally debating if it was really worth it
not at all sure
grip slowly slipping
a finger’s length from just letting go
how simple it would be
locked inside the hell in my head
begging for something more appealing
anything more attractive than my being
in desperation I approached
seeking a heart-to-heart
with the only source always trusted
and She pressed Her answer against my temple
in the eye of my mind
showing me where I’ve been
regardless of where I am
reminding me how hard I fought to arrive
and I was suddenly ashamed for believing
giving up was any better
than simply being alive
lowering my face from Her grace
I apologized
message received
what I sought was not what I need
crying out to the Moon
searching for beauty & discovering Truth
and therein lies the blessing
Copyright © 2023 Willow. All Rights Reserved
Written by WillowsWhimsies
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Goodbye
Problem is, I forgot how to sit still. Even when the tide is low and the wind subsides, I feel the need to consume…be it content, canna, alcohol, drama. Or just take the simple solution.
Can’t rest anymore. Can’t sleep without pills. Can’t function without amphetamines. Can’t learn without guidance. Can’t be comfortable in my own skin. Not comfortable with this mind.
I trust no one. Especially not myself.
Goodbye.
Written by moon_bather
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You will be great
It's what you want
I'm disappearing
but you can't see that,
not at your distance
They're saying it was too quick
ribs showing
stomach inverted
skin hanging
but my collar bone is looking perfectly 90's
it's hard to not enjoy the discomfort
stress kills
loneliness kills
my hand is more deft
I'm glad my light is fading
I can drop the pretense of permissible par
I can surpass the darkness into disregard
I will be forgotten
and I am grateful
you will recover
and you will be great
Do not remember me,
actively
Oh, please don't listen
Despite the time
the care
what I thought was generosity
I'm under water now
and back to work soon
it won't be long
and I'll take my way out
I'm disappearing
but you can't see that,
not at your distance
They're saying it was too quick
ribs showing
stomach inverted
skin hanging
but my collar bone is looking perfectly 90's
it's hard to not enjoy the discomfort
stress kills
loneliness kills
my hand is more deft
I'm glad my light is fading
I can drop the pretense of permissible par
I can surpass the darkness into disregard
I will be forgotten
and I am grateful
you will recover
and you will be great
Do not remember me,
actively
Oh, please don't listen
Despite the time
the care
what I thought was generosity
I'm under water now
and back to work soon
it won't be long
and I'll take my way out
Written by Helopolis
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"Empty Clicks"
Click—
Steel bites flesh, sweat drips thin
The hollow sound echoes under skin
Eyes like ash, the room won’t breathe
Each empty chamber a mocking reprieve
Click—
The bottle’s dead, the room’s a tomb
A life dismantled in a dim-lit gloom
His thoughts churn black, a choking tide
No ghosts to guide, just rot inside
Click—
The trigger’s weight, a sick refrain
Fingers tremble, blood still in vein
A flicker—cruel—like a dying star
Life’s grip cuts deep, leaves a jagged scar
Click—
The gun drops heavy, a snarled hiss
No bullet to carry him out of this
He sits in silence, shadows creep
A prisoner now, too broken to weep
Click—
Steel bites flesh, sweat drips thin
The hollow sound echoes under skin
Eyes like ash, the room won’t breathe
Each empty chamber a mocking reprieve
Click—
The bottle’s dead, the room’s a tomb
A life dismantled in a dim-lit gloom
His thoughts churn black, a choking tide
No ghosts to guide, just rot inside
Click—
The trigger’s weight, a sick refrain
Fingers tremble, blood still in vein
A flicker—cruel—like a dying star
Life’s grip cuts deep, leaves a jagged scar
Click—
The gun drops heavy, a snarled hiss
No bullet to carry him out of this
He sits in silence, shadows creep
A prisoner now, too broken to weep
