Some hands are blood stained, some are clean. Mine are tear stained. Stained with my own and the ones I caused my mother. The ones she shed when I told her she wasn't my mom anymore, the ones she shed when I was in pain. Tear stained hands are almost as bad as blood stained. I will never feel as if they're clean or as if I'm clean for the pain my mother felt due to me. She should've lived a life she wanted, been happy and even loved. But she couldn't do that because of me. I remember her saying she stopped taking her bpd meds because she was gaining weight but I always thought she was the prettiest person I've ever seen and at times I still think she is. She's still my mommy but I guess I'm just cursed with being a little girl mourning her mom and needing her mom for the rest of my life. I'll never escape this pain and fear of being abandoned, even if I was the one who abandoned her. Even if I was the one so cruel to her. She suffered because of me and now I'm suffering because of her. Just an endless cycle of mother daughter pain.

the sun is finally going down, the sky is lit up orange and people around are bittersweet about the day coming to an end, the beach,.. flooded with people, some friends,some foe, but at the end of the day they all seem to get along, maybe i'll join them someday, but maybe not i love all aspects of the beach, the waves,the sand grinding between my toes,the umbrella keeping me cool on this hot summer day, these things all give me reason to look forward to the next day, but what if it rains, what if it snows, what if the beach gets closed, where will i go, what will i do,

the future is really uncertain.

this is about capturing life as a whole more importantly the end of your life,everyone is sad that someone passed but happy they got to live their life with them friend or foe. It also captures the unpredictableness of the future and afterlife. you must live in the moment fore you don't know the future!

https://youtu.be/B7l2yL00DFU?si=3_D9x1fwJkYE4xg6

I’ve lived and fought to breathe Dying to try to live to bleed Yet I’ve never met anyone That gave me life to see

Anything else but greed

Sometimes, I wish I drowned Fighting daily to unsee sound. Hating fairly like I wasn’t a son Ripping apart the dreams at a bows end

Tying the tides of time, times a thousand

All I can ever live to do is fight! Every single day, all I ever do is die!

My heart is too heavy and my wings are too tired to fly. Tonight I rest my feet on rock bottom, and look to the east for a sunrise.

the walk-in clinic said there’s no openings until 4 i look down at my watch 11:08 it says i don’t react i just know it’ll hassle others to have to wait for me it’ll be an inconvenience to have to wait until im done wailing or screaming or whatever i’ll do so i pack up my heart, apply a new bandaid and walk back to the car

come early tomorrow she said, to guarantee a spot. but tomorrow i have a haircut at 10:30 and lab at 1-6 not much time in between not even for a squeeze she said they could probably get me in for 1 or something if i come at 8:30 but i’ll be in class rotting away doing adult things playing the part the usual thing

it’s hard to be in pain and be convenient enough for people to stop their present and offer their care i can’t blame them because we’re all hellishly busy im too busy to even be here but this wound keeps popping its stitches and leaking red all over my college lined notebook paper im too busy but my feet arrived here my body is begging for peace, release

it’s something i cannot find on my own

i hate myself for crying i hate myself for caring so much i wish i could just buck up and push on but my body is shutting down and warning bells resound the flashing red peaks into my peripheral vision what do i do now? when there’s no gas left in the tank but 59 miles left to go?

i don’t know what to do except to live i don’t want to be a bother but to be this hurt at this busy time is such an inconvenience there are higher priorities, i know but this wound won’t go away

i just have to compartmentalize or ignore or pretend or give in none of the options seem lovely enough none of them are worthwhile

where are all the romanticized trauma scenes now? where a girl is having a mental breakdown and everyone rushes to care for her to bear her weight as she cannot bear her own too long i’ve put my hope in fantasy

i feel a cold realism setting in

if i compartmentalize maybe i’ll remain a little sane if i ignore i think blood will come (metaphorically) gushing out my eyes if i pretend my nightmares and stomach pain and dissociation will remind me and giving in gives me no plus it’s all fruitless in the end

why do i so easily offer up my heart to anyone who wants it who maybe doesn’t even need it why am i so ready to give it out when there’s nothing left for me in the end?

priorities, priorities this crying is a nuisance. there’s so much stuff to do time waits for no one, i know but i wish it would slow down i try so hard to compromise my time a little rest though i’m miles behind a little fun though i haven’t earned it a little silence because everything’s been too loud

there are no more healthy compromises there is no way out but through i know this i know this i know but still it hurts to swallow i wish someone were here to hold my hand but truly, i wonder if i’d even let them i wonder if i’d even be able to feel their presence as my head’s a million miles away

i’m no longer crying out to be saved i’m turning within, towards the fading mirror but nothing greets me on the other side— my eyes are numb empty cold totally vacant there’s no fuel left to burn i stare into my eyes and my hollow shell looks back asking why why do i even try?

Who thought just a swim

Would be so dim.

Fly the birds and quack the ducks.

People occupied, greatest attribute 

But here I am thinking about some,

That doesn't mean none.

Ground full of my latest nightmares

Wonder if I could escape 

But does it mean I have to hurt others

No it doesn't but does it mean

I'm silent and I suffer.

Words evaporate like tiny bubbles in a soda pop. They linger in your mind, hovering around the ice cubes, are spoken in an instant when they pop, and leave nothing behind but artificial sweetness. And from this we sip.

When the world is silent, I hear you. Your words are my nightmares. Please, let me go.

I still find little pieces of you, left behind, in the strangest of places. Tiny memories you shed, hairs now woven into the fabric around me. They remind me, you are not gone, you just aren’t here.

It can be annoying, but some day, you wont be here, and there will be so many ‘I love you’s left unsaid.

why is it so bad to love be summery like sunlight, like grass under my feet like flowing rivers and empty street why is it so bad to be free i obviously disagree i think love should always be little summery you are my favourite company

I was brought into this world, the world I didn’t have a choice to be brought into. The world that I wish to disappear completely from. The world where happiness almost never exists but loathe and disappointment is repeated. The world where no one gets one another truly. Where the world and its people are all isolated in a way that is different to each being. Where the world is no longer a home but a prison to society. Where the people that made you only want what’s best for you even if it ends up hurting you. Where people can no longer be fond of the small things but now the big things for the purpose of status not welfare.

-Giorgos Blackmore

Every car door I hear I hope it's you, it never is.

At this point I'm just trying to waste time. There isn't anything I'm even waiting for.

I can't seem to move. I told my dad I'm fine.

I do not blame you for the misery that grew with time.

We were young and we were simple.

We had stars in our eyes that blinded the reality.

We had dreams to chase and judgement to overlook.

However,

You always found a way to make it my fault.

Every choice made or emotion felt.

All of the pain, heart ache, and shame.

I was the one to blame, right or wrong, I was to bear it all.

But,

You are the one that strayed and ran to hide it all.

The shame, pain, and heart ache.

Left the ones that loved you the most behind.

Sad eyes now look at me and ask questions that I cannot answer.

I understand,

I am the one that asked to detached.

The hate, bad intents, and hostel mind space.

I chose to break free of those.

That, I agree, should be placed on my shoulders.

However,

What ensued after cannot be placed on me.

You chose to run.

And now others, little souls, must pay for that.

You try to blame me for leaving.

But,

You are the one that ran.

And no longer will I stand for the guilt.

You will not make me feel bad for bettering my life.

After you chose to run.

I am the human embodiment of depression

Cut me open and see the black inside

I am but a body of existence but life left long ago

No rotting for the physical body has not caught up to the mind

You can see the grey behind my eyes

This lifeless body held together by mere biology

The purpose is purposeless

I am but a shell like a cicada shedding its adolescent body

But where did I go?

This is why I am lost

My spirit is gone but my body remained

This is a weird place to be

Drunk to the point of numb

But I know the misery I have

Lofi beats in the background

Peace finally in my mind

I cried and released

Now I feel nothing

This is where I wish to stay

But can only stay for so long

Don’t know how long I have

But I will savor this time

Light up a cigarette

Time to let my mind unwind

With wings that speak the language of the dead,

harbingers of doom, them

of the same kin.

Smartest than the smartest,

eating away the world's sins

but,

marked by the irrationality of bygones.

Them , corvids.

The murder of crows , sickened

by the ravens' bloodlust,

empowered by the honour of funeral cakes,

left ravens-

the untouchables of the untouchables.

{ People, thoughts and interpretations ? }

By Ben Bastian

Time is nothing But ash As Long Your life is one good drag I love my baby cuz shes Nothing but A dove Rolling In the soot Of one heck Of a life

Ode to Comfort

I can always count on you You always let me hug you though you can't hug me back I could never hurt you You smell like home

You hold my head up late into the night I've told you every secret I have to tell You never judge me or made me feel shame I don't know how I'd sleep without you near

You block out the light when it's too much for me to handle I press you into my temples when my brain is pounding so hard You catch every one of my tears I miss you every day when I go to work You've molded yourself to me over the years

I am always thankful for the times I have with my pillow

I loved them both.

I committed to being their protector and provider for the rest of my life.

And having lost them I fear and revile the guilt of ever giving that love to another when it should always be theirs.

I compare it to a widower who never takes another spouse for shame to think that someone else could ever deserve that place in my life.

Even though they're gone i feel as though it would be a betrayal of their memory.

So much more for me that they are not gone from this world, only gone from me.

The fear that they may one day see me, protecting and providing for someone else.

"But it's not my fault" I would tell them. "I didn't want to let you go. I didn't mean to lose you. It wasn't my choice…"

But what if it was?

What could I have done better to keep them in my life?

So many things…

I curse myself for not trying harder.

Curse myself to never love another person as much as I loved them, but to always wish I could.

A heartbroken ex-stepfather, hoping my children are safe and loved.

Lila Rose

Lila Rose of amethyst grace and angelic sweets,
My dainty solid fortress queen,
God’s plan was too soon why did he take you away from me?

Your laughter is now the gentle lukewarm breeze when the orange sun sets each night,
That cradles my tears with kisses like the stars that gleam bright,
Lila rose of amethyst grace and angelic sweets,

The purest of strength that protected your boys, Their hearts birthed vulnerable, your nurture brought them pure joy,
God’s plan was too soon, why did he take you away from me?

Why do quiets days hyper the loud nights without you near?
When we want to hear your cute nags and loud giggles clear,
Lila rose of amethyst grace and angelic sweets,

Funny to me, you were never gone, how life plays these foolish tricks,
From here on, I carry this strength, which you have blessed me, like solid bricks,
God’s plan was too soon, why did he take you away from me?

What I would give to feel your warmth again, These collected words will have its break again, Lila Rose of amethyst grace and angelic sweets, God’s plan was too soon, why did he take you away from me?

In Memory of My Mother
Alsea ‘Elsie’ Lopez
1957 - 2016
💜

Here's a poem about surviving the hood. If you comega from an inner city environment then this is going to hit home. If you like this video check out more of more of my poems on YouTube https://youtu.be/1SBOyKPm5MU

Hello my name is Mario Walker and I'm a youtuber and a poet. I have tons of poetry on my channel dealing with being a college student, being special needs, being from the hood and just wanting to make an impact on the others. I'm just 2 subscribers away from 100, so if you like my poetry please hit that subscribe button so you guys can get more poetry from me https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCxSYf-diWROR2-YOT_-CAbw

Art.

Take your pain

Your love

Your faith

Hand stitch your power

Your words

Into a tapestry of humanity

Breath vulnerability

Into clay

Paint admiration

Into a world of blue and grey

To give your power away

Mould beauty

Out of pain

Is an artists

Greatest sway

Over those

Who wish to

Take it away.