Mental Health

Hope Is the Thing with Feathers, and She Looks Like a Creature Who's Been Through It
Hope is the thing with feathers, and she looks like a creature standing thigh-deep in a pile of her own ash and soot, with watery eyes and she’s choking a little on the tendrils of smoke still curling up from the black, charred evidence of the past nine months — compiled at her sore and clawed, tired and somewhat unevenly sized feet.
By Bethany Dodge7 days ago in Poets
evening moments. Top Story - April 2026.
an evening moment that caught me off guard and also expected * an evening moment expectedly unexpected clarity clouded with the opacity of love
By ali7 days ago in Poets
Things That Return
Things That Return Some things return with dignity. Winter, for example, slipping back into the house through the cracks in the window frames
By Teena Quinn 7 days ago in Poets
What Comes Back. Top Story - April 2026.
I held it in my hands Tightly squeezing my grip so it would not get out I could feel it struggle as the light that fed it disappeared
By G. A. Botero7 days ago in Poets
In memory of myself.
I sat in the middle with myself, split clean in two for longer than I’d like to admit. - One half reaching back screaming, pleading
By Latisha Jean7 days ago in Poets
The cardboard box
It came in a cardboard box - the life that I had built. A hand-written note, a pair of socks, photos in shattered glass, my mother's hand stitched quilt,
By Amanda Starks7 days ago in Poets
The Worst of the Worst Returns!
The trouble I got into my first week of college… it’s something I’d hoped to forget. Naive enough to let someone in… Someone who took my life in his hands and molded it into something unrecognizable.
By Gabriel Shames8 days ago in Poets
House on Fire
"It kills me not to know this but I've all but just forgotten What the colour of her eyes were, and her scars or how she got them
By Insinq Datum8 days ago in Poets
I can finally say. Content Warning.
I’m sorry for my dishonesty I tried, to tell you what I wanted But you wouldn’t listen I am a Lonely woman Who caved in
By Jennifer lindquist8 days ago in Poets
hypocriSEE
When one is raised by hypocrisy, Is it irony to become a hypocrite? Or is that just the natural progression The way people grow
By Lolly Vieira8 days ago in Poets
My Own Umbrella
When a person stands on tiptoe to get closer to the sun, the whole world cannot block their light. Perhaps you are going through your toughest time right now, but please do not lose your courage. I know you have felt hate, heartbreak, and breakdown; I know you have doubted yourself and worried about the future.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing8 days ago in Poets
The Strings That Bound You, Broke You
TW: Suicide Oh, little one. Why did you act so? Oh, little bird. Why did you decide to fly Before your wings soared? Oh, pretty baby.
By Manisha Dhalani8 days ago in Poets