Poetry Archive

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I Swear This Is Not My Best

Trigger Warning: Description of bulimic purging.

Romance
This is not romantic this is not beautiful
Fuck anybody who tells you it is

On Being Different – a poem

i am the perfect target
daylight sparkling off my teeth as i laugh too loud, sing too deep, be too much…

OCD (a poem)

the same thing
day in and
day out
as i beg
and plead with
my brain
to stop

Pansexual Erasure vs Support

“Stop trying to be so different!”
Erasure has never hurt so much.
Now I know how my pansexual brothers and sisters feel.
Erasure. Phobia. Hatred. Confusion.

Christian, A Poem About Grief

I would like to welcome the newest member of our writing team, Rose. In her first post with us, she shares her feelings about the loss of her beloved dog. Thanks for sharing with us, Rose!

While I was in residential treatment for self harm, my dog and lifelong friend and brother died. He was very sick and had to be put down so he wouldn’t suffer anymore. My family is still shaken up.

Ooh-Rah

Your pain is in my DNA,
Father,
As real as the shrapnel
Still in your legs
Decades later

Call for submissions

This is a call for submissions for a proposed anthology entitled Headcase: LGBTQ Writers and Artists on Mental Health. We are particularly invested in making sure that we have a genuinely diverse array of writers and artists contributing; we want to include the voices of people of color, of youth and elders alike, of trans, gender non-conforming, and two-spirit people; people living with dis/abilities, low-income people, people whose intersectional identities are underrepresented in media.

a little something…

See if i care, flat out, see if i care, if i care about you, if i care about this or that, and I’ll lie, hold my words at bay, smile outward, pain inward, and I put my heart on my sleeve and make my legs work, one step at a time and hold my head high, and eyes locked forward.

La Tempête Parfaite

I would like to welcome the newest member of our writing team, Brent Jones. In his first post with us, he writes a poem about emotions and self-esteem. Thanks for sharing with us, Brent!

La tempête fait rage dans mon coeur / The perfect storm rages in my heart
Quand les vagues prédestinées du destin rencontrent lentement le fond marin, l’océan dans sa grandeur n’est pas assez grand pour les contenir. / When the predestined waves of fate met the gradually shaped bottom of the sea floor, the ocean in its greatness was not big enough to contain it.

Brother Mine

I’m afraid you have become furniture, brother mine.

Nothing but an engraved box among a hollow wooden desk.

You’re not longer those books your read, the letters that lined

The inside of your throat and tongue. You’re no longer

The songs you played with shaking fingers and bouncing

Legs at three AM when the world finally dozed to sleep.