r/OCPoetry

his denim jacket still hangs there,

on the old chair beside my mirror

it still smells faintly of rain somehow,

like all the things i miss right now.

the coffee beside me has gone cold again,

half-burnt candles burning low

net curtains sway in the midnight breeze,

while wind chimes sing in the night breeze.

wilted roses rest inside my book,

pressed beside your faded notes

funny how little things remain,

just to bring your voice back again.

and when the nights grow soft and blue,

i wear that jacket thinking of you

it doesn’t fill the space you left,

but makes the silence hurt a little less.

comments :

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/pFXBSzhUEy

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/x27jh5wQCA

Lately I'm thinking, Of the future I hold.

Inside this large house, Will I live here alone?

My heart keeps sinking, When I tell it the truth.

There's nothing there, To look forward to.

Will I have my own children, A wife I could hold? Where are my parents, Will they leave me alone?

Not even twenty, With all of these thoughts.

But with all that I've seen, My fantasies are gone.

I don't want solitude, That much is true.

If the price is more suffering, I'd rather be alone.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/AwiUAiAtxX

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/aFq64RnyKe

Take me with you,
Somewhere where you live.

Up in the sky,
 Where no one passes by.

I will Guard while you rest,
And make your bed afterward.

Come get me! Take me with you,
Somewhere where no one looks at me.

I will massage your legs,
I will serve you the food.

Just take me with you,
And let my shallow soul be Free.

~Rishab Jain

Rate this poem out of 10.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1py7u22/comment/nwqw2j8/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button
 https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1se4zvs/comment/oeqoyby/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=mweb3x&utm_name=mweb3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

I’m the girl with baggage

The kind that keeps me up at night

I’m the girl who’s damaged

And not just on the inside

.

I’m scared and hurt and jealous

.

And kind

.

A softness lives

Behind these eyes

.

My stitched up grin

Eternally bright

It ‘lights up the room’

I live in fight or flight.

.

Bloodshot eyes in a darkened room

Tell myself ‘Take a tissue’—I do

But show my cries—

That’s attention-seeking too

.

I wear my scars just fine

Stand tall, with pride

Every inch of pain -

I take in my stride

.

I’m fierce and bold and strong

.

And traumatised

.

My trauma is permanent

Stuck in my bloodline

.

I’m the girl with pretty eyelashes

That flutter like butterflies

I’m the girl who’s healing

And not just on the outside…

.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/4wG37V4VdV

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/yX7iy47Z93

Drawn from sleep I stand from bed but
leave behind an oozing trail of something
the residue of my restless dream fades
and so does my ability to use my left eye

By the time I’m brushing my teeth, it’s rolled back and milky
A few pearly whites tinkle against the porcelain
My scalp curls off my head with the brush
I worry there isn’t enough of myself to get through the day

Each racing thought oozes grey matter from my nostril
I keep a matching handkerchief to dab it discreetly
The sound of others’ voices wears a canal between my ears
And I chew off my tongue trying to keep up replies

At home my face remembers how to smile
My eyes come to a general consensus
But in the silence the grey trickle becomes a flood
I crawl through my sloshing thoughts to the bedroom

As I lay my head on the pillow and turn
Shedding my scalp completely
Less to worry about in the morning anyway

___

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/8nOcM4kdOG

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/JgfszhLtcH

This is new
this way.

I used to watch it
from the wrong side 
of night.

no sleep
no coming down

Chemistry pretending 
to be clarity
and a room 
that would not end.

The sun used to rise
like a mistake 
I survived.

Now it comes up slower
caught through motion
pedals purging
the residue
of what I was.

same light
different witness

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1thyvtb/comment/omr3dkw/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1thso7u/comment/omr3trb/

I am 14 and not that experienced so please be nice but I would appreciate constructive criticism.

I am from memories.
I am from the crashing of waves against the beach on Lake Huron, swimming until my lips turn purple and shivers rack my body, building sandcastles until my kingdom is complete. I am from bedtime stories with oscar worthy performances, bunk-beds full of stuffed friends. I am from an overflowing dress up box and make-believe that felt not so pretend, I am from sisters who argue and argue but still love.

I am from chilly winter Saturday morning basketball and feeling the cold wind bite my face after. I am from crisp fall soccer games and feeling tired in a good way. I am from Girl Scouts and selling cookies on sidewalks to make a difference. I am from walking to the library and reading books in the kids corner. I am from watching reality shows with mom after dinner. I am from knowing every line of Marvel and Harry Potter movies.

I am from wearing a heavy winter jacket over my costume on Halloween and seeing the sun shine on Christmas. I am from baking, art, and music. I am from hot chocolate sips and Buddy the Elf. I am from close and I am from far. 
I am from memories.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/kvA1lZtAon

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/yUQBsE1Qsf

the damp smell of the clay
is what i remember most of that 11th summer

it made my mouth water
the wet-dirt vapor all around me as i kneaded it and kneaded
it felt like i was drowning when it stuck to my fingers and bound me up
gray streaks drying painful and tight up my forearms

endlessly i shaped the earth- rounding in my hands
perfect spheres
putting them in the plastic-lined bucket
not thinking about my fingers in bondage

and when my teacher would walk by
i’d lift the plastic cover
(see, we cover them so they don’t dry out)
and show her- see?
see how good i am?
please tell me, are they good?
and the thick scent would curl up to me again

i remember the clay

and the lice

i knew about them and i didnt
all at once in the way children do

i knew about them because of that night in the kitchen

i was sweeping
there were still dishes to do, and counters, and mopping
and that wasn’t even counting the clay that needed me the next day

the bug was caught under my nail
it flailed six arms, violent, tiny and grey
the force of its panic frightened me
the weight of its life on my finger
i flicked it away
and kept sweeping

i knew about the lice and i didn’t

i didn’t know
because
even then
no matter how perfect the sphere
no one would comb them out

***************************************************

this is my first poem i’ve ever posted on reddit- I’m open to any and all criticism or feedback! thanks for reading my silly little poem :)

feedback i’ve given:

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/qAQcggu4sH

https://www.reddit.com/r/poetry\_critics/s/sw4ttmTeUJ

she is the ground
I am the air above it :)
aquarius and cancer
fish can't fly :(

she builds the ladder
I test each rung
We meet where the water
hasn't decided
if it's rising or falling :)

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1ti1k8q/new_day/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1ti4krv/comment/oms0dwn/?context=3

Bravery looks different now.

Less like setting myself on fire to keep the silence warm,
more like letting an unlocked tenderness exist beside me without checking where it hides the knife.

Some nights
it is believing that gentleness is not just danger speaking in a softer dialect,

that a hand can reach for me
without asking my body to abandon itself in exchange.

Some nights
it is saying no and remaining long enough to watch nothing collapse,

learning how unfamiliar it feels
when love does not turn my boundaries into broken furniture.

Bravery looks different now.

Less like surviving the room by becoming smaller than it needed me to be,
more like staying inside my own skin while the door stays open.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/5Vn7vt5nqK

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/XRg2bCMmDO

Your eyes are intense and piercing.

In them, I feel your vision snaking across my flesh,

Your fingers caress and trace in such a way that I know you adore my essence,

But to meet your gaze feels like possession,

So I digress, I look away,

Even when your dark hands softly grip my face.

To look is to have my flesh stripped away.

Soul laid flawed, all too bare.

How could I, without a care,

reveal sprawling scars and stains and hope to share such fears with you?

You who wrap love around kisses and perfume the air,

A sweet soul that plants mint flowers in glass vases and dances in pouring rain until it drips from curling hair.

Something new I'm thinking of adding to my project.

Any thoughts and feedback helps!❤️

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/tYfBXyQ3B5

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/BzcAUI3CUe

I recently started poetry. I would like feedback on what other people think. How to improve.

Uncertainty

Once, a boy turned 17, and got asked, “What do you want to do?”

He responded with an answer, not his answer, but words to fill the ears, to make them look away. But he knew nothing, too scared to face the truth of his unhappiness. The words he said, he desperately wanted to believe. He would love to have his life that figured out, to not be scared or frightened of making the wrong choices, the regret of messing up, how he would look in others’ eyes when he eventually failed.

When he looked inside to see if that’s what he wants, uncertainty is all he sees: a kid who cries himself to sleep, thinking how much he has failed, wondering, “Is it worth trying for?” But hope of love, missing out on life, pushes him forwards, getting him up in the morning, just to be asked the question again.

Wondering where he went wrong, how others chose and got past the voices of failure, wondering what he could choose to make his life any worse than it already is, the only thing he could think of was death. But death was the simplest answer, the answer to all of his problems: to stop the pain, the uncertainty, running the scenario over in his head, asking himself, “Would anybody care?” Checking his phone for a text to see if anyone would ask him if he’s Ok.

But it never came.

The next day, talking to his friends about how they’re excited for the future, and what they’re doing, not knowing he almost had no future last night.

Thank you for reading.

Comments
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/XcY2nJw1f9
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/6A0FbdNA18

Sometimes I wish I could not exist
In the world for a while.
It's not that I wish to leave this life
In exchange for another somewhere else.
Nor would I want to erase my footprints
From the soils of existence;
I'd just like to unzip and step out of my body,
Like someone arriving home
After a long, cold day takes off their coat
And hangs it gently in the closet
For tomorrow.
If I could, I'd like to float around
In the cosmos for a while;
Looking down on earth without weight,
Seeing how close I could get to the sun
Before the heat forces me back.
I would try to grab hold of a star,
And watch it glow in my hands.
And when it starts descending,
Catch it by its tail, and ride it down to earth again.
But if I decided not to go that far,
I could settle for climbing oak trees.
As a kid, I remember following
Their long, crooked trunks with my eyes,
Thinking they looked so tall they could
Brush the sky with their branches;
Tangling the clouds in their leaves.
I'd like to climb a tree that high.
Maybe not so high as to grab stars,
But high enough to feel their heat.
I'd climb along the dry, silvery branches
One by one until I was at the top,
Where I could rest myself against the trunk
And look down at an orange fire
Burning in the gloom of spring twilight;
Safe from the flames, and only being touched
By the distant smell of smoke.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1tcrw3m/comment/omqsa1d/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1thz7gm/comment/omrcxe4/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

A hand reached out today

I slapped it away

I drove deeper in the cuts

drowning in the blood like a wingless crane

the scars give me power

but also bring me pain

I am not sad

just tired of my shame

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1ti1qaa/heres_something_i_wrote_for_us/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1t9hu2l/succubus/

Yesterday I got laid off, I walked out of the burning building.
It was cartwheels in the parking lot.
It was splintrering wood.
It was broken bridges and sheer force of shamelessness.
I told the boss he'd know where to stick it.
I had to recruit all of my arm strength.
To smash him through the window.

You KPIs, bonuses and standards.
I am here in the middle of your assembly.
Factory line grunts, burp, fart and spit.
Walking in and out.
Robots will replace them soon.
So I stole the gasoline from the depot.
Covered the factory floor.

I'm working up to that blaze.
Blame it on one of the disgruntled.
But you caught me with the lighter in my hand.
So I passionately kiss the human resources pretender
So she might save my job, anti safety high heels deny.
She knows how to sing my praises.
Now shes processing my dismissal.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1ths5jw/comment/omp68q0/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1thkdjj/comment/omp74n5/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

The darkness feels endless, feels suffocating, feels vast.

Standing on my own reflection, I feel like I don't know the person at my own feet.

When did this discourse start? What have I been telling myself and agreeing to for so many years to get to this point?

"Staring at Heaven while going through Hell", I'm starting to understand what that phrase truly means.

My eyes look upon something my hands cannot reach, my heart yearns for something my feet cannot take me to, my hands crave the touch of a woman who does not exist.

Opening my eyes, the world's colour returns, yet this darkness, this void, doesn't disappear.

Comments:

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/E5CSm5khBr

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/Bq6TSlb4f3

Words don’t fit the page
Or crumble from my mouth
When I try to paint
My darkest moment.
This pen tilts
Scratching noisily
Scrapping the paper
Scrapping my skin.
The lines stay blank
A harsh white
A laughable contrast
To when my innocence left.
I choke on my tongue
Tell no one
Stare blankly.
I won’t spill. For now.

I don’t really like the last line. I like the sentiment but it’s just not working!

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/4SyIwAvpQl

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/jZjojpkTOI

In the basement of a 120 year old building

Everyone watches the red cloud flow over us on thier phones

Bedding and water sit on a smooth floor

and leans against brick with rounded edges

fingerprints from the brick maker still pressed in the clay 

Water seeps down from the cracks in the mount of the egress window

and cleans out dust that had settled there in 1900. 

It reeks of chlorine. 

The power lines snap and the whole town went dark

So many trees break apart, that the roads became rainforests

Fractured sidewalks became pools

The tornado stripped them of bark and hurled them to the ground

All air outside smells like cedar and pine

like a candle besides the bath 

Shreds of white pulp look as fresh as sliced fruit

It's the raw life essence of a dying tree 

A chainsaw blade gurgles  

We pull from the road what we can before the rains drown the brick streets again

and then we camp in the dark lit by battery lamps.

Thank You. 

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1thshp3/just_cause_dismissal/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1thxnhx/white_page/

Links to feedback:

Feedback 1: Reach for the Stars

Feedback 2: Untitled

_________________________

Love's Hurt

The hurt wrenches deep inside.
I just can’t fight the pain.
It seems as though something’s died,
And my life’s just been in vain.

Is life still living on?
Or has death now taken stand?
The cord of life is severed;
Can a knot be tied by His hand?

The struggle rages all the more;
I fight to keep my hold.
The life force cries in anguish,
It’s devastation to behold.

My life is cradled in His arms,
At last it’s in God’s grace;
There will be no death today,
Yet the scars mar my soul's face.

Con

Seed 
I plant
Bloom and sprawl
On the window frame 
An inch
It creepper day

Seat 
I took
Rush I may not
And look at the

1st comment: https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1thpjzo/comment/omp4ste/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

2nd comment: https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1thnu4r/comment/omp8hqi/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button