#Ventpoem

[untitled-bumblebee]

Untitled #23

I’m letting my life fall apart without anyone being able to see that it’s collapsing around me. I feel like shit again, but at least that feeling in my stomach is back. You know? The one where you’re so hungry but you’re not eating because you remind yourself what it felt like to be lightheaded and smaller and better. So you don’t eat. And you walk 2-4 miles a day. And you work out. And you don’t finish all of the shit you have to get done. And you don’t focus on all the things you really want. Because it’s so much easier to starve yourself than to just admit it’s not your body that makes you pathetic, it’s just who you are.

[i--need-sleep]

First, the rose wilted, dying without love and care.

Forgotten it hung, left to rot, its beauty with its petals bare.

Then, remembered, it was lifted from its grave,

Carried to the flames as a final wave.

The fire started, the rose burned bright,

Faded red scorched into night.

Its ugly color turned to lively flame,

An all-consuming element, killing dignity without shame.

All that's left is smoke, infecting eyes, burning noses, a bitter sigh.

With the fire, with the smoke, a new beauty grows,

The beauty of a burning rose.

The rain begins, the fire ends,

Leaving nothing but darkness in its wake.

All is ended and memory is faded—

Gone is the light that once composed,

The beauty of a burning rose.

(MY FIRST POST IS A SHITTY POEM HELP ME)

[prax-works]

[do not repost or claim as your own]

Also on insta - @1prax_works1

[annieartist03]

For @_kyoe_ and @kittensunecake17

[marcabreart]

Take your Time

By the time you read this poem

I may have decided to end it abruptly

But I didn’t. Now I ruminate, 

Over the smallest worry.

The worry that I wont have enough time to spend,

The worry that I wont amount to anything in this world.

Who cares right? Does it matter much?

Yet....

My time is being wasted by myself, no one else is to be blamed.

Yet.....

I feel empty, I’m covered by a heavy blanket, restraining my breath.

Time is slowly being wasted right now,

I could have done my paper, but I chose to write this poem instead. 

I’ll take my time right now.

[fishbowl-souls]

Any Word Will Do

Give me the word,

Give me any word, 

Any word that will cure the mess of my head, 

Any word that will sooth the pain in my chest,

Give me a word,

Give me any word,

Any word that will end the sinking feeling when I wake,

Any word that will let me stop falling in my sleep,

Please give a word,

Give me any word,

Any word that will end this decrepit isolation,

Any word that will silence the crowds in my head

Please give the word,

Give me any word,

Any word that will end creaking of my bones,

Any word that will stop my satisfaction in the creaking,

I beg a word,

Give me any word,

Any word that will cure the bags under my eyes,

Any word that will hide my ribcage from the mirror,

I beg the word,

Give me any word,

Any word that will end the panic that seizes my body,

Any word that will give me the ability to live my life completely,

Please, I beg, any word,

Just give me a word, 

Any word will do,

Any word will do

[angelicsoftartist]

This was suppsed to be a vent but,, I really liked how it came out so! It made me feel better !🌸

Here’s my attempt At sort of poetry ! 💕 I hope you like it!

🌸—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-🌸

It's a strange feeling

loneliness, is.

because as soon as it comes,

you don't understand what it is really

its just a feeling

a knowing

that I am alone

it's the numb ache in your heart

when you realise they left without you

it's the harsh pain that

you can be forgotten sometimes

it doesn't last forever, no.

it passes but when you feel lonely,

its all you can feel.

🌸—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-🌸

[snubbully]

funeral flowers.

[adoringhorrorborn]

Confusion (Vent poem?)

Kept afloat by confusion.

Yet hand in hand

Being slowly pulled down by depression.

Love is the downfall of people

It’s filthy

It’s stupid

It’s uplifting

It’s pure

It’s a mess

Love did this to me

But then, did it really?

Or was it just another influence for the present when something like this,Has lasted for years

For years I’ve lived a life of suffocation

By my surroundings, friends. Family.

The internet, myself.

I continue this life, stuck. Suffocating.

Sometimes I find my way out.

But then it creeps up. Grabs me from behind.

And whispers in my ear to stay.

To give up and submit to it,

And what’s that ?,you may ask

depression.

My longest friend to date.

6 long years.

When we first met it was okay,

It was sad but casual.

A year later it darkened and summoned dark thoughts of Forever sleep.

The year after that it summoned sharp objects.

Then it melted for abit, I stayed above it and felt love for the first time.

Love which wilted and turned to toxic waste.

After that? We invited her back, we invited the thoughts and objects.

Then I felt love again, which I still feel but in a painful.. non toxic way?

The love of which I speak made me like this.

Like what?

Not sure, just ..like this, something.

Somewhere in the middle depression became my neutral mode, I no longer know the feeling of feeling ‘okay’ or ‘neutral’

My neutral tends to be dark thoughts and sadness that overlays the rest,

But per usual

I’m fine

Life is fine

My surroundings are fine

My mental state is fine

In short

I’m fine.

[lovingstalking]

I long to love you

And lust to love you

My mind not only races.

It obsesses.

About that long lasting idea.

The very idea that can drive me mad.

The notion of eternal love.

It’s thoughts like that.

That can send my mind spiraling

So. My love. Without a doubt.

The possibility

Maybe.. most likely the truth

Of that never happening

Sends me into

the deepest state of meloncoly

Worse then what your little mind

Could ever possibly imagine.

[untitled-bumblebee]

Untitled #1

| I apologize if this isn’t good- I have never posted my poems anywhere- And this is mostly for venting, but if you have advice please share! |

The World: 

Soft indie music with the windows down

Rainbows on every little doodle

Pastel clothes and drawings 

Sunshine painting my vision

Meeting you took that away

Meeting you gave me more

Meeting you gave me rainbows

Meeting you gave me the Sunshine

Pink skies and bike rides outside

Watching setting suns from my window

Soft love songs early in the morning 

Excitement and bright clothes

Losing you took that away

Losing you ripped it from my warm hands

Losing you burned my chest 

Losing you took away the stars

Tears and mint chocolate ice cream

Sad songs and video games

Rock music and dark clothes

Binge watching and red pens 

Losing you took that away too

Losing you taught me to love

Losing you taught me that love hurts

Losing you taught me about the world

Fun music with windows down

Laughing with new friends and junk food

Watching movies past the sunset 

Sleeping in till the sun has risen 

[prax-works]

[do not repost or claim as your own]

cw/tw: ed

Also on insta - @1prax_works1

[happily-lost-in-words]

Stuck in Phases (Dear dad)

My dad should’ve raised a better girl,

Because I know the son I am

Will not be his by age 18,

The idea

Of who he wants to me to be

All that he expects from me

It’s suffocating

I am afraid of myself.

I cover all my mirrors

And hide behind facades

I cut my hair

And hope to pray the gay away

But the gay is inside of me.

Dad,

Can’t you see?

It’s not a phase

All the stolen kisses from girls

And the curled hair to make it shorter

The masculine hand-me-downs from a big brother

I will never be

The girl you want to see.

I am a broken thing

A doll masquerading as living

I am the forgotten memories of a person

I am problematic

Twirling out of control

Like a broken ballerina figure

Always one step forward and six steps back.

You were right,

Dad.

I’m never getting over this

Thing,

Inside of me,

This demon clawing from my chest and in my head

SCREAMING

What if I’m never enough

I know when I grow up

I’ll lose your love

Because god hates fags

And you love the lord

More than you love the broken word

Of a heathen

Who whispers “love is love”

And wants a man in the mirror

Not a petite woman

Dad I’m dying,

I’m so afraid to ask if you’ll always love me

Even if I don’t follow the allegory stories, if I’m destined for hell will you leave me lonely?

What if I’m never what you want from me?

What if I fail before I fly?

I’ll never know why

I’m so fucked in the head. Maybe it’s like mom said.

“I’ll never be shit. I was born to quit.”

Dad am I worth it?

If you could get that chance

To pick between what never was and what failed to be?

Would you pick the original baby girl or me?

The one you lost,

Or the one that still disappoints

Reminding you of a monster you married

Dad, what if I die before you?

Dad what if I never go anywhere in life?

Am I worth all the strife?

Should I even be alive?

Why do I always fail to die?

Dad what if I don’t make it? Do you think I can take it?

All your high hopes make me feel like if I fall I’ll crash and burn

And I’ll make you sad

I’m trying, Dad.

I don’t want to lose you,

And if I have to play pretend

To keep this egg-shell dream from the end

Will you still love me,

Even if the me you love dies?

If she gives up her chest and listens to her heart?

That beats “him” from the start?

Dear dad,

I’m sorry.

And I’m terrified

You’ll abandon me.

[puppymeds]

Rotten

TW: vent poem

i am rotten where you touched me.

can you see it?

like a dead bird, 

broken,

unable to fly,

trapped by worms 

and fungi

eating at my flesh, 

pulling me apart.

deep in a lonely dark wood,

my bleach white bones waste away.

my spilled guts feed maggots and vultures,

feed the earth,

so maybe my life meant something

after all.

flies buzz out of my eyes.

butterflies feast on my rancid skin.

i feel sick grow around me,

the dirt soaking in blood,

grotesque and decaying.

mold spreads across my body, 

consuming,

leaving nothing but dust behind.

will i be found, one day?

seeds of dark poison grown in my heart.

hatred blooms.

joy withers under the shade and

suffocating grip of toxic vines.

who planted these?

who waters them?

thorny branches hold tight to

my fragile glass heart.

cut them away and

nuture the sick and dying again.

let love grow again.

venomous leaves,

their spines biting and

fighting for a hold.

feeding on the ugly rot,

creating a home for the maggots and mud

living in my veins.

dissect me.

cut me up.

use my body.

use me like they did before,

so i can feel something, 

anything.

it hurts. 

everything hurts.

i am digusting, 

rotting.

written by: Oberon "Bug" OBD (@rottenratbrain)

[marcabreart]

I think about what it’s like to be someone else, to step in their shoes and just experience the world they are so use to. A change of pace from my everyday life, a start to know something I never knew before. I just wanna be in their place, to feel their suffering, to feel their joy, to feel hungry, to feel so much different than myself. 

[fishbowl-souls]

Dear Dead Girl

(Am I writing another vent poem? Yes, yes I am. I’ve been meaning to write this poem for a long time I could just never bring myself to ever write it.)

Dear Dead Girl,

I saw you once, 

A quick recall meet,

I thought you were quite pretty,

And you were a lot smarter than me,

And I liked that a lot

Dear Dead Girl,

You had a floral shirt on, 

And oxygen tubes,

Your hair was short,

But longer than mine,

It had a slight curl

Dear Dead Girl,

I’ve always fallen fast,

In love with a million strangers,

So when you reached to shake my hand,

It only made sense,

That my heart would skip a beat,

Dear Dead Girl,

I never told you my name,

It was said and I know you heard it,

But I doubt you remembered it, 

I have trouble remembering yours sometimes,

But then I just take a look at the obituary

Dear Dead Girl,

All I ever did,

Was shake your hand and said that your shirt looked nice,

It was nothing,

A simple gesture of courtesy,

But it meant everything to me,

Dear Dead Girl,

I wanted to get to know you,

But I had never had the chance,

And now there isn’t one,

Because I lost you,

Last February,

Dear Dead Girl, 

I saw it in the paper,

It was on the store counter,

A newspaper from a county over,

Your picture was there,

A statement to pray for a student in the hospital,

Dear Dead Girl,

You were gone a week later,

In a hospital a state away,

They said it was pulmonary hypertension, 

I don’t know what that means,

All I know is that it took you too soon,

Dear Dead Girl,

You were a year younger than me,

Only a month away from being fifteen,

You had life to live,

And then you didn’t,

And that terrified me,

Dear Dead Girl,

I wish that I could kiss you,

Though you may have never wanted me to,

Out of personal taste or something more,

You probably never swung that way,

Your father was a preacher anyway,

Dear Dead Girl,

You never knew what you meant to me,

You probably never thought of me,

You may have never even liked me,

Though you probably never thought,

That you’d be the subject of my poetry

Dear Dead Girl,

I never cried for you,

I never let myself,

For I didn’t really know you,

I did mourn,

If only the lost possibilities,

Dear Dead Girl,

I’m writing the conclusion now,

The closure I need,

But I don’t think this will bring,

You’re gone and I can’t change that,

I just wished you could have read this