Silence cuts the marrow.
Tears carve stone in ribs.
Shadows weigh the chest.
A pulse breaks stillness.
Grief learns its own voice.
Words crack but still breathe.
Let pain speak at last.
Tell me, when we meet with a smile,
Tell me of the fondness for love.
The taverns of the city have long vanished,
Tell me if you can bring wine to my lips.
Roses scattered on the paths you can gather,
Tell me if you can piece together the broken me.
Each moment has passed in trembling fear,
Tell me if you can become the final hope.
We usually move ahead without looking back,
Tell me if you can call me home again.
Even your presence feels like a punishment,
Tell me if I still live within you.
This mirror has already shattered,
Tell me if your eyes can still make sense of it.
---
On the road I try each guise,
Today I’ll meet them with new eyes.
Life has left me time to spare,
I bring some idleness to share.
Some may perish in this flame,
I live on gladly, all the same.
A boundless show, yet sweet refrain,
Their voice keeps singing out my name.
Are these feelings just in vain?
Still alone, to them I wend my way again.
The duties are paid, yet restless remain these eyes,
Without my beloved’s sight, in vain remain these eyes.
His radiance softened my roughness away,
Helpless in their watchful pain remain these eyes.
Truth is no healer holds a cure to impart,
Afflicted with the illness of heart remain these eyes.
I cannot accept that another may see,
Slayers of grief and disgrace remain these eyes.
“Bhav” still stands humbled in the endless queue,
Whether love’s confession or death remain these eyes.
In the picture you seemed far more fair,
Only smiling, only there.
Must it always be adorned attire?
Just behold the soul is there.
Not every moment is a dear one near,
Yet in the silence, she stands there.
In love, I’ve become like Huzaifa at last,
She rules the heights, her throne is there.
Peace itself has turned away from me,
Now let it be death or her, there.
I sat apart from life, too weary to live,
Even the breath I owed, I refused to give.
The curse of the world is rightful on me,
I thinned the trees, not the flowers to be.
In the end, the mind grows tired of love’s flame,
I made a firefly my partner in name.
Whatever the cause, it stands as a crime,
I drowned the swimmer in ocean’s prime.
You bartered away the hope of peace true,
And left the heart idle, absorbed in love’s hue.
Death arrives when sorrow takes flight,
Even the game shivers when played in fright.
A wound so strange, a pain so new,
I pledged my soul to the beloved’s view.
I longed for you, that was my claim,
Fulfilled at last—by your leaving’s flame.
For years a lone star graced my skies,
It hides away, yet returns through goodbyes.
What would it mean to have it all?
I lose my reason when things do fall.
Know the strength that silence keeps,
Restlessness grows when complaint speaks.
Cling to truth and let it stay,
The heart grows dim when joy decays.
O my companion, still your fire,
The world won’t burn from my desire.
am i alive?
what classifies something as alive?
respiration
i am breathing
but just barely
trying to capture any air i can between sobs
growth
i am growing
it becomes increasingly difficult
recognizing myself in the mirror every day
and believing the next age i'm turning
excretion
i am excreting
i sweat when i do pretty much anything
even though i'm always cold
is there something wrong with me?
or am i just overthinking again?
reproduction
i am not reproducing
i can
but i'm not sure i want to
i wouldn't be a good mom
i'm worried i'd be too much like my own
metabolism
i am metabolizing
i always claimed it to be fast but maybe
it's since it doesn't have much to work with
movement
i am moving
my body does it without me knowing
or being conscious
it just moves
response to stimuli
i am responding
i respond too much
too dramatically
too sensitively
i fit all the criteria
so i guess i am alive
i'm just not living
Emotional Depth
By
Damien Mac Mánais
Meandering thoughts,
blissful solitude surrounds me,
Hidden in selfish emotion,
well-being
well guarded
against selfish caring,
finding yourself
then another,
lost in a moment,
shattered now
fragmental heart,
scattered upon my soul,
giving oneself so deeply to another
in so short a time,
I feel foolish,
weakness abounds,
isolated,
alone but reluctant
to give up on myself,
can’t retreat into my emotional instability,
stilted growth of affection in my heart,
hopelessly lost,
feeling so bare,
how come I care, never again....
If still loving you with all my heart
makes me crazy,
then let me lose my mind—
blowing kisses to the empty air,
talking to an unoccupied car seat,
whispering goodnight
to a picture frame.
Holding your urn tightly,
feeling my heart beating
in sync with yours.
If still loving you with all my heart
makes me crazy,
then let me be the wild one—
still wearing your ring,
laughing at your jokes
only I can understand,
weaving our memories
into every corner
of this hollowed world.
If still loving you with all my heart
makes me crazy,
then let me stay mad—
a woman who refuses
to amputate her own heart,
a woman who loves
like death forgot
to close the door.
Let me dance with your spirit
beneath the invisible stars—
spinning inside the love we built,
the love not even death
can unravel.
If still loving you with all my heart
makes me crazy,
then I will be wild forever—
gloriously,
tenderly,
fiercely yours,
until the stars themselves
forget how to burn.
Your color-bled cloth
Just rips at my stitches
I’m monotone; a moth
Calling out to you
With my heavy, little wishes
Fed a steady diet of tweed coat pockets
Bleached in forever stains
And tie dye kisses
In whole, I find a part of me
Your heart sorely misses
Amends for all the faint mistakes
Unearthed while I was bluffing
I perch upon your buttons now
Whispering sweet nothings
Your pettiness is soaking through
Neglected, I’m in love with you
In debt to all your gems
Ugly-headed beauty kills the demons
Yet you’re dressed in them
Another thread of fabric
Slipping from your hem
At least that’s where it seems to me
Your problems mostly stem
Floating and receding
Through the headwinds I’m receiving
Tossed into a better time
Where all your soapy bubbles
Stung my eyes and pierced my stubble
Left me weak and kneeling
Between the lines, my soul would cry
But moths were never known for feeling
I’d crawl to find a warmer spot
Deep inside your shell
Ferocious in its absence
There was solace in your smell
Now my hunger softens
If only for a spell
Who you wished for me to be
Oh, I could never tell
The type of abuse that happens on the inside
The victims receive inner scars they can hide
This is an abuse that can be done over and over
From someone that's angry, drunk or even sober
Suspects can vary from a mother to a friend
An emotionally abused heart isnt easy to mend
Its actually very hard for the abused to notice
To please their abuser is all they have in focus
They're told by others to leave the relationship
The mix up of love and abuse keeps a tight grip
Victims make up their minds to make an escape
The abuser causes them guilt some kind of way
The abused want to believe that there is hope
They are being held captive by imaginary ropes
Telling themselves that things would get better
Suspects of emotional abuse are quite clever
They make you think its love when its control
One minute talking sweet and the next very cold
A relationship like this leaves you very confused
Take it from someone like me who's been abused
2025 Poetry Marathon Mile 6 Poetry Contest// Sponsored by: Mark Toney
Contest Judged: 8/13/2025 9:42:00 AM
( 7th Place )
Written: August 10, 2025
I run the miles deep within,
a subdued race, an unspoken intent,
devoid of spectators-- no finish line,
just breath and heart, both entwined.
The shades lengthen along my path
but still a soft dawn finds its way turning into gray.
Stage by stage a tale, flaw, and goal,
rushing, steady flow.
The road stretches far, but I endure—
a counterfeit concealed, strong and pure.
through storms that howl, nights that weep,
I keep the pace, I am awake.
With each mile that challenges my thoughts,
I find a surprising wellspring of strength.
not in the roar or triumphant--
but in the stillness, I transformed!
A marathoner not of feet,
but of the unflinching heartbeat,
so when the world drifts apart,
I run the internal reach.
hearts of glass
hurled through air
in pieces
plastic idols
nesting dolls
caned by fear
opaque tears
swept beneath
smiling lacquer
When winds are rough,
And tear at hopes and dreams
When days are dark, and nights are tough,
And over-long, it seems
When bitter clouds collect above,
And ache and break and pour
We'll batten down the hatches,
Just like we did before.
You see, to me - we're made to last;
To wait, contented, warm;
To stand and know the past has passed.
For now, it's just a storm.
If you should fray, or fall apart,
In any where or when
We’ll always try, with all our heart,
To make you whole again.
But if you do fall behind,
And break and shake to bits
The day will come where you will find,
The pieces still all fit.
That's quite enough of strain and strife,
And painful days, astray.
This isn't at all funny, life.
Enough for now, okay?
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