The cry for help that goes unheard or falls upon a deaf ear. Turn your back, ignore my pain, hide the shame, and bury your guilt. A life destroyed by silence, no one cared

How will we remember you? I promise it won't be as kind You watched the poor starve As you hoarded your last dime From the poem "The Hoarder's Legacy"

I felt like everybody else had their voices heard but mine. Being a young person in love will do that to you.

This is a poem that I came up with during a particularly emotional day. I hope some other people may also relate.

Stings trace my body, from chest, to arms, to stomach. I call it thunder. It floods me, leaving me to wonder when love became a storm, and why I let go of myself

Silent love screams in my chest, yet stays hushed in your hands. Shattered like glass after he walked away, I gather the broken pieces—October and November’s perfect warmth now only scorches me. From safe hugs to panic attacks, home burned to ashes. This scattered poem is a heartbreak puzzle: self-harm, abandonment, endless ache. Piece it together if you dare—you’ll feel why I still love him in deafening silence. Forever.

This piece paints a vivid picture of despair and cynicism. Love and goodness are just fleeting illusions in a universe indifferent. It's a journey through a world where every hint of light is just a mask for the shadows beneath, where time turns what we cherish into emptiness.

This is written during the loss of my family to murder! It paints a vivid picture of anguish and longing. A soul crying out for release. Yearning for peace amidst darkness. Finding no love, only anguish, somberness, and anger. I felt nothing but pain!

Pain as Compass, Ghosts as Witnesses A ritual of survival carved in bruises and glowing fault lines. This poem walks the reader through a dark pilgrimage where sorrow leaves sigils and the road teaches in silence. Each step is a cracked rune, each ghost a nod toward truth. If you’ve ever carried pain like a lantern, this piece will feel like home — fractured, glowing, and quietly holy.

passage describes a dark ritual of symbolic death, unfolding in a shattered, funereal atmosphere. The imagery centers on: - Ashen bells and cracking salt circles that signal the tightening collapse of the self. - Black veils, guttering candles, and humming altar stones that create a room haunted by the memory of a fading heartbeat. - A shadow kneeling without the speaker, offering the last remnants of identity like coins for Charon — a symbolic payment for crossing from life into death. - A fountain for the dead and the River Styx reinforce the mythic transition. - The ritual ends not with release, but with a slow, heavy sinking — an emotional collapse rendered as a ceremonial passage.

I speak in Splinter's, language cracked like glass. There is a noise in the wall, bleeding into the floor boards,like spilled ink.

"I'll always be right by your side. Te quiero. A poem to every friend, and all who i love..if i dont make it.. 17. 20:47 jakey."

The judgement from the outside why you're struggling on the inside. Being misunderstood because you don't deal with people & things they way you use to.

"I am distinctly aware that my life as it was, is over. Yet my life as it is, is just the same. Insistently, almost, I sabotage every piece of happiness like a poison killing off any weak enough to succumb. You loved me. Forever."

This poem is about my friends and siblings. Despite my depression and situation, I can always count on them to make my day as amazing as possible. Yet, I am still not doing well; fighting my demons so I don't lose them..

11:05 a.m. gov. class 10 minute poem "I dont wanna leave my friends.." This poem is inspired by my sister, ri rii. I remember on an old server, I was instantaneously friending everyone. During one summer day, she joined the server, and I was like "ur my bestie now!" Now, almost a year later, she's my forever older sister. She's cared for me since day one, and I hope to be her forever little brother.

11:28 a.m., Gov. Class "Idk random thoughts and im just so grateful for my friends i really dont want to leave my friends.."

This poem..is very personal. During the time of this writing, I was going to end it. I wrote this as a final goodbye to my angels. Looking back, I realized how much this might of hurt them. However, who am I to say that when I'm in the same trapped, helpless bubble..?

15:12. This poem is inspired by Julia Alexa's song, "PRETTY WHEN I CRY." The song means a lot to me, and so does my poem.

10:56, government class. If you want to know what is in my mind, you might as well be in Tartarus. Beneath of my happiness, my joy, there is a layer of hurt and sadness.