Ambjr
Poem Published
Yesterday 9:37pm
Yesterday 9:37pm
assemblin broken things
I like when other monsters
nod their heads
to the rhythm of my story
when they hear the thunder
in my throat
and recognize my storm
I’ve numbered faces in the mirror
countin backwards
til I found the one
who knew what it was to smile
without first checkin himself for wounds
somewhere along the way
I learned to speak in a language
made of scar tissue
to write pain into poetry
to find a harmony between hurt
and healin
I learned to walk again
with wings
and chains
learned the steps to...
nod their heads
to the rhythm of my story
when they hear the thunder
in my throat
and recognize my storm
I’ve numbered faces in the mirror
countin backwards
til I found the one
who knew what it was to smile
without first checkin himself for wounds
somewhere along the way
I learned to speak in a language
made of scar tissue
to write pain into poetry
to find a harmony between hurt
and healin
I learned to walk again
with wings
and chains
learned the steps to...
#depression
#healing
#SelfReflection
22 reads
2 Comments
Ambjr
Poem Published
Yesterday 9:37pm
Yesterday 9:37pm
assemblin broken things
I like when other monsters
nod their heads
to the rhythm of my story
when they hear the thunder
in my throat
and recognize my storm
I’ve numbered faces in the mirror
countin backwards
til I found the one
who knew what it was to smile
without first checkin himself for wounds
somewhere along the way
I learned to speak in a language
made of scar tissue
to write pain into poetry
to find a harmony between hurt
and healin
I learned to walk again
with wings
and chains
learned the steps to...
nod their heads
to the rhythm of my story
when they hear the thunder
in my throat
and recognize my storm
I’ve numbered faces in the mirror
countin backwards
til I found the one
who knew what it was to smile
without first checkin himself for wounds
somewhere along the way
I learned to speak in a language
made of scar tissue
to write pain into poetry
to find a harmony between hurt
and healin
I learned to walk again
with wings
and chains
learned the steps to...
#depression
#healing
#SelfReflection
22 reads
2 Comments
Ambjr
Poem Published
Yesterday 9:37pm
Yesterday 9:37pm
assemblin broken things
I like when other monsters
nod their heads
to the rhythm of my story
when they hear the thunder
in my throat
and recognize my storm
I’ve numbered faces in the mirror
countin backwards
til I found the one
who knew what it was to smile
without first checkin himself for wounds
somewhere along the way
I learned to speak in a language
made of scar tissue
to write pain into poetry
to find a harmony between hurt
and healin
I learned to walk again
with wings
and chains
learned the steps to...
nod their heads
to the rhythm of my story
when they hear the thunder
in my throat
and recognize my storm
I’ve numbered faces in the mirror
countin backwards
til I found the one
who knew what it was to smile
without first checkin himself for wounds
somewhere along the way
I learned to speak in a language
made of scar tissue
to write pain into poetry
to find a harmony between hurt
and healin
I learned to walk again
with wings
and chains
learned the steps to...
#depression
#healing
#SelfReflection
22 reads
2 Comments
Emetophilic
Poem Published
21st Jan 2025 1:06pm
21st Jan 2025 1:06pm
Pure emptiness
#depression
#EatingDisorder
#identity
#SelfHarm
#suffering
31 reads
0 Comments
Emetophilic
Poem Published
21st Jan 2025 1:06pm
21st Jan 2025 1:06pm
Pure emptiness
#depression
#EatingDisorder
#identity
#SelfHarm
#suffering
31 reads
0 Comments
Emetophilic
Poem Published
21st Jan 2025 1:06pm
21st Jan 2025 1:06pm
Pure emptiness
#depression
#EatingDisorder
#identity
#SelfHarm
#suffering
31 reads
0 Comments
Emetophilic
Poem Published
21st Jan 2025 1:06pm
21st Jan 2025 1:06pm
Pure emptiness
#depression
#EatingDisorder
#identity
#SelfHarm
#suffering
31 reads
0 Comments
Emetophilic
Poem Published
21st Jan 2025 1:06pm
21st Jan 2025 1:06pm
Pure emptiness
#depression
#EatingDisorder
#identity
#SelfHarm
#suffering
31 reads
0 Comments
OccultCatalyst
Poem Published
28th Jan 2025 9:23pm
28th Jan 2025 9:23pm
Self-deification
And a raven came wrap wrap wrapping on my door,
And I called “who’s there and what for?”,
And the raven called back but as a murder of crows,
It was Raum at my door who beckons and bellows,
A set of odd fellows arranged in rows,
And a melancholic song my quartet did play upon chello’s.
They played a requiem, low and slow,
A tune that whispered secrets only the dead could know.
The air grew heavy with the scent of decay,
As Raum’s hollow laughter led the melody astray.
The crows in their murder, with eyes like coal,
Bore...
And I called “who’s there and what for?”,
And the raven called back but as a murder of crows,
It was Raum at my door who beckons and bellows,
A set of odd fellows arranged in rows,
And a melancholic song my quartet did play upon chello’s.
They played a requiem, low and slow,
A tune that whispered secrets only the dead could know.
The air grew heavy with the scent of decay,
As Raum’s hollow laughter led the melody astray.
The crows in their murder, with eyes like coal,
Bore...
#apathy
#depression
#despair
#disappointment
#MentalHealth
39 reads
0 Comments
OccultCatalyst
Poem Published
28th Jan 2025 9:23pm
28th Jan 2025 9:23pm
Self-deification
And a raven came wrap wrap wrapping on my door,
And I called “who’s there and what for?”,
And the raven called back but as a murder of crows,
It was Raum at my door who beckons and bellows,
A set of odd fellows arranged in rows,
And a melancholic song my quartet did play upon chello’s.
They played a requiem, low and slow,
A tune that whispered secrets only the dead could know.
The air grew heavy with the scent of decay,
As Raum’s hollow laughter led the melody astray.
The crows in their murder, with eyes like coal,
Bore...
And I called “who’s there and what for?”,
And the raven called back but as a murder of crows,
It was Raum at my door who beckons and bellows,
A set of odd fellows arranged in rows,
And a melancholic song my quartet did play upon chello’s.
They played a requiem, low and slow,
A tune that whispered secrets only the dead could know.
The air grew heavy with the scent of decay,
As Raum’s hollow laughter led the melody astray.
The crows in their murder, with eyes like coal,
Bore...
#apathy
#depression
#despair
#disappointment
#MentalHealth
39 reads
0 Comments
OccultCatalyst
Poem Published
28th Jan 2025 9:23pm
28th Jan 2025 9:23pm
Self-deification
And a raven came wrap wrap wrapping on my door,
And I called “who’s there and what for?”,
And the raven called back but as a murder of crows,
It was Raum at my door who beckons and bellows,
A set of odd fellows arranged in rows,
And a melancholic song my quartet did play upon chello’s.
They played a requiem, low and slow,
A tune that whispered secrets only the dead could know.
The air grew heavy with the scent of decay,
As Raum’s hollow laughter led the melody astray.
The crows in their murder, with eyes like coal,
Bore...
And I called “who’s there and what for?”,
And the raven called back but as a murder of crows,
It was Raum at my door who beckons and bellows,
A set of odd fellows arranged in rows,
And a melancholic song my quartet did play upon chello’s.
They played a requiem, low and slow,
A tune that whispered secrets only the dead could know.
The air grew heavy with the scent of decay,
As Raum’s hollow laughter led the melody astray.
The crows in their murder, with eyes like coal,
Bore...
#apathy
#depression
#despair
#disappointment
#MentalHealth
39 reads
0 Comments
OccultCatalyst
Poem Published
28th Jan 2025 9:23pm
28th Jan 2025 9:23pm
Self-deification
And a raven came wrap wrap wrapping on my door,
And I called “who’s there and what for?”,
And the raven called back but as a murder of crows,
It was Raum at my door who beckons and bellows,
A set of odd fellows arranged in rows,
And a melancholic song my quartet did play upon chello’s.
They played a requiem, low and slow,
A tune that whispered secrets only the dead could know.
The air grew heavy with the scent of decay,
As Raum’s hollow laughter led the melody astray.
The crows in their murder, with eyes like coal,
Bore...
And I called “who’s there and what for?”,
And the raven called back but as a murder of crows,
It was Raum at my door who beckons and bellows,
A set of odd fellows arranged in rows,
And a melancholic song my quartet did play upon chello’s.
They played a requiem, low and slow,
A tune that whispered secrets only the dead could know.
The air grew heavy with the scent of decay,
As Raum’s hollow laughter led the melody astray.
The crows in their murder, with eyes like coal,
Bore...
#apathy
#depression
#despair
#disappointment
#MentalHealth
39 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems About Depression by New Members
