595 posts
  • ebubei 2w


    I have been thinking,
    Thinking a lot!
    Of things I can't control.

    I spoke to my friend,
    Who is deeply engulfed,
    In thoughts of things beyond him.

    Of Uncertainties,
    Of Unprecedented events,
    Of the many shits life might throw.

    Of Aging,
    Of Death.
    Painting images with brushes soaked in sorrow.

    Of what use are they - these thoughts?
    Than to strip you of life,
    Stifle your breathe and release your grasp.


  • _charu_ 3w

    its magical how
    quickly i grew,
    how quickly
    the human body
    hop skips jumps into
    hurtling forward,
    and how eager i was
    to run along with it
    without looking back.
    i look at you,
    you're taller now
    (i lost at arm wrestling
    for the very first time
    last month)
    you don't make the same
    stupid jokes you used to,
    though we can still laugh
    at that time you fell in the driveway
    and i lugged you back up the stairs
    and convinced you tinkerbell bandaids
    would take away the pain.
    now your knees clack against the table
    and you hug my neck
    and talk to me about geography
    and basic, oh so basic trig
    and i feel my heart growing and tearing
    at the same time
    will it change?
    will we change?
    change is the only constant
    but not all change is good
    and it's this longing,
    this need that
    we grow into something
    sweet and lovely
    that scares me.
    expectations simply
    set you up for disappointment
    or thats what you told me
    the first time i baked
    (that cake was delicious
    and you know it,
    though youll never agree)
    but i care too much
    to not have expectations at all.
    i want you to
    grow into yourself
    grow into something beautiful
    and i want you to grow
    up on your own
    so i'll sit here and wait
    till your aching stops,
    and till you stop running
    and you come up to my little boulder
    and we can sit in the sun
    and sit in the rain
    and laugh
    about tinkerbell bandaids again.


    #pod #mirakee #mirakeeworld #readwriteunite#julietscorner #writersnetwork #writerstolli #writersbay @mirakee @mirakeeworld @writersnetwork @writerstolli #ceesreposts #potd #wod #poetryWednesday #growingup #growing #growingpains #love #storge #freeverse

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    Growing Pains

    Growing up was a hurricane, how could I let you experience the same?

  • supasesh 9w

    wondering around my room, as if perplexed by what they're seeing, like they havent been in my room countless times before,
    i beacon for my bed; a slight two tap on the sheets, and for a moment that should have been brief, was extended by their wondering gaze meeting mine,
    And so they turn, and walk to the window, head barely breaking the windows ledge, to see all the grey faces

    again, my hand softly taps the sheets twice, prompting them to come sit on the bed, but it goes unaswered,
    so i join them, slowly getting up and walking to the window,
    "one of those days?" i ask, yet met again with only wondering eyes.
    "yeah me to", i continue.
    and so me and my dog sit by the window,
    and today, we both see the world in grey


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    Today, we can be lonely together

  • chaos2art_and_backagain 11w

    This Side of the Window

    I spent so much of my life looking out clouded windows.
    Sitting, longing for adventures I created in my head that I am far too timid to pursue here in reality.

    I know I stay for the safety, the pains of glass providing protection from the rain and wind.
    But like most things in life they grow old and brittle, I watch the cracks grow longer from their corner as the days pass.

    I'm waiting for the day it will all come crashing down, forcing me to face the fears I hold, nothing left to shield me.
    I realize though that waiting for life to throw me to the wolves, wanting to be a victim that overcame her circumstances is only going to lead to a skewed mindset.

    Why not be a brave warrior who breaks out of her own glass prison and tames the wilderness instead.
    I believe that would make for a better and more hopeful story.

    So here I go.


  • chaos2art_and_backagain 11w

    My Time at the Castle In-between

    I've learned that dancing with ghosts and phantoms only leads to wanting. 
    They begged me to stay in the inbetweens.

    I was no longer that innocent child I once was, but not quite ready to take on the world like I've been told I must do. 

    So I walked the haunted halls of "could haves" and "what ifs" trying to plan for all that lay behind the heavy doors of growing up that loom at the exit of this place. 

    I've lost track of how long I've stayed here, this castle built on the fence, but I've started to feel restless 
    I have begun to notice with each passing day how each dance has become shorter.

    I no longer see monsters at the windows, just the beauty of twisted tree limbs for birds to perch upon and sing.  
    The "what ifs'" bring more excitement than fear like before and the door no longer looks quite as fearsome as I remember. 

    In fact as I study it a bit more, I fear  if I don't leave soon I will have grown far too big to fit through it. 
    So like many who have tested here before me, I pack my bag with select childhood dreams and wishes along with the lessons and hope I have gained form my time here.

    I push open the thick oak doors and welcome the new world In front of me. 


  • tokingbetweenthelines 11w


    It's a strange place to be.
    You've experienced glimpses
    of what's in store
    and it seems predominantly bleak.

    You've answered all the questions
    your youth had to ask
    and it's left you
    more confused than before.

    You're not old enough
    and you haven't seen enough
    to draw definite conclusions to anything,
    so you're left in perpetual uncertainty.

    You're free to fuck about
    to your heart's content,
    but wary of the eyes
    watching your every move,
    with the little worry
    at the back of your mind
    warning you
    of stepping over the line.

    You're full of energy and enthusiasm or
    full of distress and dejection or
    see-sawing between the two.

    Everything's exciting,
    everything's fleeting,
    everything's daunting.

    Anxiety wears you
    like bespoke lingerie,
    Reality is a cement truck
    speeding at you,
    the crash coming faster everyday.
    The drinks and the smokes
    can only numb so much.
    It's all getting unavoidable,
    you can't escape anymore,
    and best of all,
    it's all on you.

  • supasesh 13w

    Younger days younger blaze

    I miss being 12
    The world felt like ours, we were always ourself
    Waking up early excited for the day
    Thinking how to cause trouble, in any kind of way

    Roaming the streets at night, we felt fearless,
    Convinced we were the toughest thing out there, ignorance was bliss

    We Only smoked weed, a girl was soemthing we didn't need, confidence was at max, I had so much self-esteem

    We were trouble but we were fucking  cute,
    We got away with so much shit without a dispute

    No one fucked, no one was   thirsty,
    Only had friends
    no one out to hurt me,

    No problems not even rain,
    Man I wish I could lapse back to that day

  • not__so_poetic 15w

    Unsaid promise

    I didn't notice your new haircut
    Our last chat was a little salty
    We didn't have our gossip session
    Our sharing everything long gone
    Our debates turned to let it go's
    We haven't been the same
    The crazy goofy us
    Dying to play around again
    We changed with time
    The bond stayed but not the same
    No need for apologies
    The moment you said "hey"
    It's a new story again
    With an unsaid promise
    To be there no matter what
    Our bond turned stronger again!

  • darkvoid 16w

    What happened?

    What happened to that girl ,
    the girl with perfect grades
    the girl playing in the ocean every afternoon 
    the girl laughing with her friends
    the girl doing a photo shoot wearing her favorite dress
    What happened to that girl
    the tanned girl who was skinny like a model
    the girl who ran out of fingers to list her passions
    the girl that spent hours making desserts, locking her fingers clean of chocolate 
    the girl who read books on the beach, wind brushing against her hair
    What happened to that perfect girl? 
     What happened to daddys little girl? 
     What happened to that smart girl?
    What happened to the girl who was perfect?
    How did that girl with perfect attendance and straight Es come to be here;  half an hour late , head dropped  and feet dragging hiding from society with puffy eyes from crying. 
    Only a hoodie to hoodie to hide the body they hate so much.
    How did this happen?
    Was it the loss of innocence, 
    a realization that life is meaningless?
    Was it the shattering of childhood dreams,
    t he last ounce of hope ripped from their heart?
    How did this person end up wearing a sports bra for days on end hiding their body? 
    How did this person end up eating 2 chips for lunch because the texture of a sandwich makes their brain tear apart?
    The dry skin flaking underneath a bra stained with sweat and the constant roll of hunger remains them how their life is a mess. 
    When did their showers become hours long , sat on the floor, tears brushed away from their skin , their skin burnt bright red, the scalding water taking the pain away , the stained water rushing a wave of red down the drown?
    Every step reminds them of how their footsteps feel wrong , they don't deserve to belong on earth, every breath a breath wasted on this planet.
    What happened to the mornings of freshly cooked french toast and sunrise walks? 
    What turned the mornings  into sobbing under the covers the harsh sunlight reminding them another day will rip away the threads of hope?
    What happened to the girl that was terrified of death?, now only a ghost remains , one which begs and plans for a way to escape life.
    Only a Ghost ,   at the back of class , only words muttered are 'present sir', before they slink back underneath their hoodie , headphones in, thoughts intruding their mind.
    Every sound makes them flinch
    Every bright light is too strong 
    Everythings  too much to handle 
    Everything's too much 
    What happened to the girl laughing on the beach in the sunshine?
    Playing fetch with her dog?
    Kicking balls back and forward with her dad? 
    What turned them into the monster that ripped apart a can , using the sharp edge to feel things  ,the sharpness making everything feel better?
     How did the monster come to lie in the stormy waters , the winds and fog swilring around them , there hands around there neck , shoes soaked , taking the last breath , then hiding, waves washing over then , winds howling around them , they are at peace , motionless , until they gasp for breathe and they relaise that there is still life within them, screaming out in fury that life exists?
    What happened to the little girl whos only wish was too see a shooting star?
    Was it the fact that they learnt to hate their body?
    Was it the fact that  someone calling there name became a harsh reminder that they exsit.
    Or was it just that there  brain that invades every thought , sweeping over like a wave, trying to drown them.
    Their cries for help
    Shut down
    Until it became a whimpering cry for hope.

  • not__so_poetic 17w

    Songs of love

    There were times we conversed through songs,
    Feeling the lines, singing along with lyrics,
    now i see you with your headset on
    listening to your favourite pop
    that doesn't make our conversation
    Lyrics that mean nothing about me
    Now those songs of love long gone
    All I'm left with is a old playlist
    Which meant so many conversations
    May be this isn't about your changed taste
    May be this is about that distance we have even when you are right beside me!

  • not__so_poetic 18w


    Remember how you danced to your own songs, how you composed your own steps, how everyone clapped seeing you dance, singing by yourself, how you danced in the rain with no fear and just happiness!

    Remember how you slowly stopped dancing, stopped singing and one day your mom was surprised to even hear you hum to some tune, how everyone forgot that u danced, how rain isn't meant for dance to you anymore!

    Now just see you singing and dancing while roaming around the house, smiling and laughing while you dance, having mini concerts, switching through the playlists depending on your mood,and your family singing along with you and you dancing your heart out!!

    Isn't this growing up¿


  • unblossomedyet 18w

    #writersnetwork #poem #allaboutexpression #allforlove #childhoodmemories @mirakeeapp @mirakee
    #happiness #ODE #growingup #kolkata #vintage #venetianblinds #wod #spectacle


    Adieu.... Venetian Blinds!!

    How can I forget you ? My Louvre window!!!

    When describing my vintage house,
    For the high ceilings ,and the distinctive aesthetics
    The Venetian blinds controlled the sun in through it,
    Posing as curtains, louvers made peeping simple by the house full of energetics.

    The blinders of the house have lots to unfold,
    They held hidden stories,for generations untold.
    The Jalousies as named, offered enough room for histories to create,
    The window became the signature, remembering the glories to relate.

    Months rolled into decades that changed to century
    My window stood tall and elegant
    Witnessing many members come and go,
    Capturing moments and making them a memory.

    Today there’s nothing open about you my window.
    You've shut yourself in and out.
    Holding the legacy of the vintage house,
    You still smile quietly without a doubt.

    Battered by the strong winds and chills of the air,
    Fighting the perilous rain and the sun with all its glare,
    A day will come when I will never see you anymore.
    But you will hold a special place in my heart.
    And I will always mention you in my sweet folklore.


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    How can I forget you.....My Louvre Window???
    A once upon a time spectacle ornate in vintage mansions.....

  • anshanujeet 19w

    Wrote this back in 2018 when I was thinking (maybe I’m still thinking) what life is all about and what should I do in my life. Hope you enjoy reading it. #growingup #adulting #pod

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    I Don’t Know

    I don’t know what to do
    I don’t know where to go
    It’s just that I can’t wait
    To open my success gate
    I can’t wait
    To explore my fate

    I don’t know what to do
    I don’t know where to go
    I’m helpless and useless that’s what people say
    But I know I can make my own way

    I don’t know what to do
    I don’t know where to go
    Is this my destiny
    Or is it just my fantasy

    Why should I be
    Something which I see
    Why can’t I be nowhere
    And be with someone whom I love and care


  • we_are_not_beautiful 20w

    The love, I once wrote for myself on the autumn leaves, is fleeting with the hope of no returns.There have been several ludicrous attempts, to stitch my life with tangerine along with fuscous threads, expecting the rainbows, droplets of water and petrichor will embrace the blues in my veins but the green leaves never accepted my dried and old skin.

    The once undying metaphors and mellifluous verses are now slipping through my palms like warm and light sand, now I'm afraid to sit alone on the shore, now I'm afraid to hold my own hands for self assurance, now I'm afraid to dive into the deep ocean of poetry.

    I have never felt uneasy with cold moonlight on my skin, but the thought of old glistening touch of moon have always made me restless.

    I consumed the comeliness of galaxies, breathed in the fresh breeze, gulped in the flowing rivers, spritzed the oil of flowers and worn the crown of colourful leaves,
    to become immortal.

    I failed, I'm falling and now I'm freezing with no hope of being my young and carefree self.

    "It drives you crazy getting old"
    "It feels so scary getting old"
    ~ Lorde, Ribs.

    #readwriteunite #writersnetwork #mirakee #mirakeeworld #mirakeeword #random #thoughts #pod #poem #quote #rwu #read #write #words #growingup #petrichor #metaphors #fear #autumn #leaves #galaxies #immortal #death #moon
    @writersnetwork @readwriteunite @mirakee @mirakeeworld

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    Celerity of growing old
    On my skin
    Moulding it old
    Distorted and shrivelled
    I feel

    Frisson of growing old
    With my elegiac soul
    Taking away euphony
    Crumbled and shattered
    I feel

    Animosity of growing old
    My fayre thoughts
    Forcing out serenity
    Warped and threatened
    I feel

    Volatility of growing old
    Faith and patience
    Hurting my heart
    Faded and short-lived
    I feel

    Truth of growing old
    My seraphic touch
    Burning the fragility
    Scared and defeated
    I feel


  • rosesred 21w

    what if

    what if the stars forgot to shine,
    will the sky abandon them?


  • scarletrose 25w

    A "Lost Cause"

    Abandoned by a parent,
    leaving both roles filled by the other.
    every other weekend;
    Numbing the isolation
    to normalcy;
    Abandoning responsibility
    to a nobody.

    "It has always been this way."

    A crave for love and attention,
    never a time for healing.
    The numbness to emptiness
    easily replaced
    with the next person,
    the next person,
    and the next.
    Never giving time to register
    nor reflect.

    At a time
    where he should be
    at his prime,
    he left countless
    upon countless of growth
    bottled and resigned.

    Till the moment he was slapped
    did he awoke to
    a pain so intense,
    reality on the fence,
    wondering where he had
    succumbed and lost his sense.

    Pray tell if this lost soul
    can ever be saved?
    Or is it too late;
    like everything in his life;
    abandoned to vicious fate?

    A "lost cause" to many,
    his fight at a standstill;
    Forever unsure
    if his existence
    ever had a will.


  • sillysadar 28w

    Growing up

    We grew up as children seeing the world with rose tinted glasses
    Only being in the shade when the sun is bright
    Usually playing till the evening passes into night
    We never had to fight, fight all the bad that we never saw nor what people never told us about
    For they painted it as a magically world that nothing ever goes wrong only right
    Who knew they were such great artists enough to make us believe what they say is right

  • shaundele 29w

    I'm used to you caring
    Bear with me
    I'm still learning to adjust


  • _riaa_ 30w

    From Childhood To Old Age

    From childhood to old age
    Were thrown many life lessons
    Praying we make it through each stage
    We form unexpected relationships
    Some happy and loving others filled with sadness and rage During our darkest times we'll feel as though
    We're locked trapped in a cage
    Beginning to fight our way through and our
    Journey we continue to engage


  • absynth 30w


    We are millenials
    With lives both analog and digital.
    We have a sparkle in our eyes
    that hides the landscapes of changing times
    Strewn with pixels and polaroids.
    We have seen our childhood friends being replaced
    by millions of followers online,
    We have seen our favorite box of crayons
    and the walls we scrawled on
    Being replaced by a monitor then a flat screen
    and watched those sakura shades blending
    In with the neon lights.
    We have nostalgic memories of shopping at Archie's
    for greeting cards and gifts
    Which fast forwarded too soon to the present times
    Where birthday wishes were replaced with animated GIFs.
    We watched the soapy bubbles we blew as kids
    turn into the toxic smoke of cigarettes,
    We watched as our hopes and dreams got tired of reality
    and sought solace in simulation instead.
    We watched as the love letters we once wrote on fancy paper
    got swapped for a right swipe on tinder,
    We knew a time when liking someone
    was more than the click of a button.
    We tread precariously between the tradition and the modern
    Millenials we are, still figuring out fame from freedom.