Long Poems About Grief
#grief
Long poems about grief. 300 words or more, most recently published poems first.
Grieving
Grieving on how my story was always too dark to be told. That when I told it, I'd either get censored, be told I'm too triggering, or be looked at with those pitiful eyes. I get that not everyone will do this, but it happens enough times to where it's saddening.
I'm alone often for this reason. I don't want to talk because it takes up too much energy to do so. Which is why I've ignored talking on YouTube for months and months. The expectation to do it perfectly makes me wanna drop dead. Other people's expectations scare me. I must do it solely for me. But still I absorb people's...
I'm alone often for this reason. I don't want to talk because it takes up too much energy to do so. Which is why I've ignored talking on YouTube for months and months. The expectation to do it perfectly makes me wanna drop dead. Other people's expectations scare me. I must do it solely for me. But still I absorb people's...
#bittersweet
#grief
#heartbroken
22 reads
0 Comments
A method to the madness
For sure whatever is the reason there's always an responsible method, to the deepness of the madness, that you and I must truly understand that behind everything. There's a reaction with a raw and uncut point of consequence, that will affect us in ways. THAT sometimes don't make sense. 🤨 BUT yet it's still apart of us, through the process of the journey and travel and walk. THAT we must never forget how to navigate, through the process of what is happening in our lives. FOR sure everything, will stay with you in high sight of trying. Desperately to forget but you can't forget the...
#anger
#confusion
#grief
#hope
#love
82 reads
8 Comments
New Mask
Tired of hearing this shit,
all the noises in my head.
All the arguments, all the lies,
finding your hidden messages
from extended family, looking to give you pity
for those made up stories.
Your shadow has been casting much too much
shade at me lately.
The behind the backs,
the "its me -not you,"
new slutty friends handing out i owe you's.
All the quietness, things left unsaid,
the few hours of sleep a week that keep me feeling dead.
I'm hungry, but not because I...
all the noises in my head.
All the arguments, all the lies,
finding your hidden messages
from extended family, looking to give you pity
for those made up stories.
Your shadow has been casting much too much
shade at me lately.
The behind the backs,
the "its me -not you,"
new slutty friends handing out i owe you's.
All the quietness, things left unsaid,
the few hours of sleep a week that keep me feeling dead.
I'm hungry, but not because I...
#grief
#relationships
106 reads
2 Comments
Ashes In My Lungs
I fell to the edge, thought I’d disappear,
But I woke to the sound of my hollow fear.
The void let me stay, didn’t set me free,
Now I’m chained to the ghost of who I used to be.
The mirror’s a stranger, the scars don’t fade,
Every breath feels like a mistake I made.
I can’t find the fire, I can’t feel the pain,
Just this aching silence screaming in my veins.
Ashes in my lungs, I’m choking on the air,
A heartbeat without meaning, a body I can’t bear.
I tried to run, but the weight won’t go,
Now I’m lost in a life I don’t want...
But I woke to the sound of my hollow fear.
The void let me stay, didn’t set me free,
Now I’m chained to the ghost of who I used to be.
The mirror’s a stranger, the scars don’t fade,
Every breath feels like a mistake I made.
I can’t find the fire, I can’t feel the pain,
Just this aching silence screaming in my veins.
Ashes in my lungs, I’m choking on the air,
A heartbeat without meaning, a body I can’t bear.
I tried to run, but the weight won’t go,
Now I’m lost in a life I don’t want...
#apathy
#dark
#despair
#emptiness
#grief
113 reads
2 Comments
This Is A Sad Poem
The first time I tried to kill myself I had dumped half of the contents of a Mr.Bubbles bottle into the tub, making an iridescent and bubble gum scented grave for myself.
I dunked my head underwater for the next hour or so and continuously tried to drown to no avail.
I couldn’t get past the annoying survival instinct to come up for air when I started to panic.
I tell my therapist this as though I was telling her about dressing my dolls or playing a game with my cousins. She furrows her brow and frowns the way people do when they don’t get my dead parent jokes. I...
I dunked my head underwater for the next hour or so and continuously tried to drown to no avail.
I couldn’t get past the annoying survival instinct to come up for air when I started to panic.
I tell my therapist this as though I was telling her about dressing my dolls or playing a game with my cousins. She furrows her brow and frowns the way people do when they don’t get my dead parent jokes. I...
#death
#grief
#hope #sadness
#hope #sadness
126 reads
4 Comments
(45) Please Forgive Me Little Brother 03.31.2024 @ 9:56am
![restricted poem](/images/extremecontent.jpg)
#death
#depression
#grief
#hurt
#sadness
36 reads
Back to Michigan
They say you can't go back...
cause it won't be the same...
be it a job, relationship or a hometown -
unless you return in a box...like my daddy.
The body of my father...a very big man
of 500 lbs...was transported by train...
across the state of Michigan from large city
back to his small town birthplace.
I don't know if the town had changed
in the years Dad had been gone...
as I had never been there before...
he had moved to a bigger city after Vietnam.
The funeral director named off others
with our...
cause it won't be the same...
be it a job, relationship or a hometown -
unless you return in a box...like my daddy.
The body of my father...a very big man
of 500 lbs...was transported by train...
across the state of Michigan from large city
back to his small town birthplace.
I don't know if the town had changed
in the years Dad had been gone...
as I had never been there before...
he had moved to a bigger city after Vietnam.
The funeral director named off others
with our...
#death
#father
#grief #memories
#grief #memories
50 reads
2 Comments
Irish Eamond
An old Irish man once told me......
A sweet spot is a place.
Where fairies pass over unseen.
Magic passes over too.
He looked like a sweet old fella. But!
Standing behind you, he'd cast spells.
Full of Jiggery pokery & clownish too.
A fan of Crowley & other bunkum.
Even now I miss the old fella,
Wish I'd been more relaxed, back then.
Listened to his tales of leprechauns.
Fairies pixies & puffs n stuff.
If someone asked him, so what do you do?
I'm a...
A sweet spot is a place.
Where fairies pass over unseen.
Magic passes over too.
He looked like a sweet old fella. But!
Standing behind you, he'd cast spells.
Full of Jiggery pokery & clownish too.
A fan of Crowley & other bunkum.
Even now I miss the old fella,
Wish I'd been more relaxed, back then.
Listened to his tales of leprechauns.
Fairies pixies & puffs n stuff.
If someone asked him, so what do you do?
I'm a...
#emotional
#fairies
#grief
#sea
#water
68 reads
0 Comments
Grief
I almost forgot that you were gone until I woke up and realized that I was now grown.
Your face, smile, all of your features were there.
I would’ve bet my life on that.
And there I was nothin but a child again racing to give you the biggest hug that I could make.
I would have never imagined that I would be sitting here dumbfounded.
Lead not to our own understanding, those are the words those men wrote in the Bible as they went about their day, reciting potential scriptures that they wanted to include in the Bible.
God doesn’t make any mistakes are the words...
Your face, smile, all of your features were there.
I would’ve bet my life on that.
And there I was nothin but a child again racing to give you the biggest hug that I could make.
I would have never imagined that I would be sitting here dumbfounded.
Lead not to our own understanding, those are the words those men wrote in the Bible as they went about their day, reciting potential scriptures that they wanted to include in the Bible.
God doesn’t make any mistakes are the words...
#death
#grief
#heartbroken #hurt
#heartbroken #hurt
76 reads
0 Comments
Unearthed
My mind is screaming, merely mimicking my lost design
my heart is bleeding, memories of a dissolved time
With the scorned child, I thought gone
the next stage of life has now begun
Feeling lost in my own doom
I am trapped, surrounded
Crowded within this room
screaming at the top of my shattered lungs
Not a single soul wavers
no one bothered to look up
They walk right through my scattered limbs
Leaving behind their muddy scuffs
And on top of my punctured ribs, they stand
As if designated to their blind...
my heart is bleeding, memories of a dissolved time
With the scorned child, I thought gone
the next stage of life has now begun
Feeling lost in my own doom
I am trapped, surrounded
Crowded within this room
screaming at the top of my shattered lungs
Not a single soul wavers
no one bothered to look up
They walk right through my scattered limbs
Leaving behind their muddy scuffs
And on top of my punctured ribs, they stand
As if designated to their blind...
#emptiness
#grief
#loneliness
#love
#strength
93 reads
0 Comments
Faithful Alice: A Lyrical Ghost Story and True Tragedy
- Faithful Alice: A Lyrical Ghost Story and True Tragedy -
What is a blessing, when so many tragedies hath befallen,
Leaving a soul to believe that they walk eternally accursed...
Cleaved from Paradise's light, to walk in places of darkness?
Loving, lusting, craving, bleeding, dying, and still returning! Sin.
The chaos of this world multiplies, until it is well swollen,
Pregnant with horror, until the very earth hath become bled...
And the innocent scream, in equal parts fear and also distress.
If I hath become Hell, then I walk alive yet burning....
What is a blessing, when so many tragedies hath befallen,
Leaving a soul to believe that they walk eternally accursed...
Cleaved from Paradise's light, to walk in places of darkness?
Loving, lusting, craving, bleeding, dying, and still returning! Sin.
The chaos of this world multiplies, until it is well swollen,
Pregnant with horror, until the very earth hath become bled...
And the innocent scream, in equal parts fear and also distress.
If I hath become Hell, then I walk alive yet burning....
#anger
#death
#ghosts
#grief
#love
72 reads
0 Comments
I Still Don't Like Kerouac, Papa
When your father dies of an opioid overdose,
your stepmother will call
at 1:27pm on a gray and freezing January afternoon.
She can't articulate much of anything,
or you can't hear much of anything
or all words are caught and suffocated into a quantum vortex
because you can't remember being told
"your father is dead, and he died from an opiate overdose,"
you only remember suddenly knowing, as the truth
rises from its depression cave
stretches its long limbs,
complains about its back,
puts on thermal long johns, ...
your stepmother will call
at 1:27pm on a gray and freezing January afternoon.
She can't articulate much of anything,
or you can't hear much of anything
or all words are caught and suffocated into a quantum vortex
because you can't remember being told
"your father is dead, and he died from an opiate overdose,"
you only remember suddenly knowing, as the truth
rises from its depression cave
stretches its long limbs,
complains about its back,
puts on thermal long johns, ...
#death
#father
#grief
#heroin
#memorial
445 reads
7 Comments
DU Poetry : Long Poems About Grief