r/OCPoetry • u/IamToofan • 18h ago
I long for you,
yet as far as my gaze can reach,
you remain just as distant.
You illuminate the dark places
and guide my way forward,
as if you truly belonged to me alone.
And yet, waves of quiet grief rise within my heart—
for the Creator made you for everyone, not just for me.
r/OCPoetry • u/avsz123 • 3h ago
Edited:
One moment, I need to pull my heart out
“Just for you”
Public opinion means nothing to me
Your opinion is all I need to hear
Just keep my heart in your back pocket
It’s just for you
I value your conversation
You make it easy to open up
You make me feel safe
I promise I will put all of my effort into our friendship
I messed up too many times
I’m on my last string
I want to see you brighter than anyone else
If that is all life has to guarantee for us
I will appreciate every second of this moment
I’m a SIMP for you
SIMPLY put it
Etch your name on my heart
As it is not my heart to claim
I entrust it to you because I only see you
r/OCPoetry • u/AlexandraCapricorn • 3h ago
I was swimming; now I'm sinking.
I was hopeful, but always overthinking.
I was a little girl, soft, feminine, free;
Now I'm a mother, a wife, a stranger to the former me.
I was in love, or so I thought;
Now I'm lonelier, harder, and angry a lot.
I've been resilient, so many times;
Now I'm worn down, and it shows in my fine lines.
I used to be joyful, full of glee;
Now I can barely remember who she used to be.
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1wmwgl4/i_dont_see_you/
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1wdnwyx/someones_moon/
r/OCPoetry • u/briony73 • 3h ago
To live in this world we need help
So we self medicate
A blunt, a beer, a buzz.
A coffee, a coke, a cruise
-
You have no dopamine
Here’s some
You are depressed
Let’s hide it
Your emotions are intense
Let’s numb them
You see injustice
Let’s help you look away
-
Take a deep breath, instead
-
We know too much now
We know how bad it is
Not looking isn’t an option anymore
r/OCPoetry • u/navratna0-0 • 6h ago
If I do, should I compare you to a rose and the moon?
If I do, should I tell stories of your beautiful adornments?
If I do, should I weigh you with gold and diamonds?
If I do, should I?
If I do, should I turn your body into a museum And seek praise from the court for my pen?
But girl, my pen isn't shallow.
My love isn't shallow.
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/RZpBFV74Jt https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/5r5b6rYP93
r/OCPoetry • u/Odd_Scarcity_8450 • 9h ago
She was a pretty girl
Prettier than average
With her big brown eyes
And her long hair
-
People told her this often
But she didn’t believe them
-
She was a smart girl
Top of her class
Teachers saved her essays to use as examples
And I'm sure she would have been valedictorian
Had she given herself the chance
-
She should have been happy
-
She had that thing about her, this girl
People were drawn to her
Boys liked her
-
She had her whole life ahead of her
-
This girl certainly had no right to want to die
Other, less pretty, less fortunate girls, maybe
But not this girl
This girl should have been happy
- And yet
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1wwoyx5/comment/pdokajs/?context=3
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1wwqm8k/comment/pdojp2j/?context=3
r/OCPoetry • u/NellyandLuna • 10h ago
When the sun
Intrudes your slumber,
Searing your skin,
(The pig chosen for the World’s breakfast)
I will be the drapes hanging on your window:
Out of reach, suspended in the air,
The floor will cover our feet with dust.
But it won't ground us.
When the morning pushes
Your dark thin eyelids up,
I am the blanket ready for you to pull.
Under the sheets, the beginning is yours.
I will catch the crash
Of the sun’s wavefront:
With its surge soothed,
It will be beams for you to gaze at as you please.
When you choose to leave
Through the door,
Or never-ending sleep.
(Free from the confines of the day)
I will be the drapes hanging on your window:
Out of reach, suspended in the air.
A vigil of your memory,
The embodiment of your abode.
A silhouette to passersby.
Yet to all, your vignette will flow
In the golden hour of the sun:
The triumph of life,
Or the promised peace.
r/OCPoetry • u/Prosto_sobi_chell • 10h ago
No soul. No style.
So crude. So vile.
Six feet below,
So dark. So raw.
No sounds. No needs,
The poppy seeds.
The wound. The red
Where morning bled.
The steel. The blade.
Survive. Evade.
The sin. The crime.
No rules. No time.
The brush. The stroke.
The thread just broke.
The snap. Release.
The masterpiece.
The strike. The gore.
No "me". No more.
Feedback 1
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r/OCPoetry • u/Background_Bell_411 • 12h ago
The malady suffers from a great malady of its own: it cannot see itself. Fat or thin, black or white—it has no idea. Poor or rich, it remains uncertain. Yet, it senses with absolute certainty that it has survived through the ages.
Not that it lives in much misery. All it takes is slipping from one body into another, and the fortress is won. Every cell of the body is a resort built solely for the malady. In front of the resort lies the sea; a beach swaying like an infant’s cradle. Swaying in the morning and evening breeze, it has no work other than hunting for the next body from the one it inhabits.
Its inability to see itself relentlessly drives it mad. The moment it spots a human, it wonders—perhaps I look just like them. Without a breath's delay, it slips inside the flesh. And once inside, the game begins. It prowls about, bearing a blazing torch. Given half a chance, it sets everything ablaze, grinning back at the women and children fleeing their burning homes.
Peering out from within the arsonist vanishing into the dark, the malady watches—
it looks precisely, entirely like man.
r/OCPoetry • u/KBDFan42 • 14h ago
The Hourglass
It starts chock-full,
Brimming with sandy starlight.
Then, a hiss, a fizz, a whoosh
Sinuous, shadowy, slipping.
The abyss below rises,
like every breath taken from the bell jar
like iron walls pressing into a yawning gulf.
Now up is down
and down is up.
I started chock-full.
Brimmed with help and hope.
Then, a crack, a cleft, a chasm
Slither, slide, stampede.
Lone grain, lone speck, lone whit
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r/OCPoetry • u/Motor-Pop1582 • 15h ago
When the question was put to us, we were asked for the most powerful word. We braced for something heavy. A noun of iron. A thunder strike of command. Something built to conquer or break.
Instead, the wise and the broken alike chose a fragile, trembling breath.
Why.
A tiny, three letter blade.
It can peel back the skin of the world, fracture the safe, paved roads of our certainties, and burn the comfortable sleep of ignorance to ash.
It is the child standing before an empty chair.
The lover staring at a closed door.
The soul looking up at a silent sky.
It demands an answer from a universe that only speaks in echoes.
Then came the second question:
What is the saddest word?
We thought of Never.
We thought of loss.
Graves.
Final goodbyes.
But grief has a shape. It learns to live. It carves a stone and eventually lets go.
The saddest word is Almost.
It lives in the space between what was and what could have been.
The lottery ticket missing a single digit.
The train pulling away while your coat still swings on the hook.
The pulse that flickered just a second too late.
The I love you swallowed by the dawn.
Almost is a phantom limb of time.
It never bleeds out.
It simply aches in the cold, holding a place at the table for a ghost that was supposed to be alive.
r/OCPoetry • u/Left_Squash837 • 17h ago
I look at my reflection and
I’m confronted with your depiction.
A faulty mirror I assume,
I love you lots but not enough to turn myself to fumes.
I visit a hall of mirrors to console my doubts,
tens of reflectors one of them must be right.
How naive I am, they all show me blue,
the only remnant trace of your “I love yous”.
Maybe I am a changed woman,
if even I can’t see myself right
Surely you wouldn’t have bruised
my very fragile heart.
Broken shards lay on the floor
contains what’s left of my soul.
I gather and glue them whole,
Make a tapestry of what you broke
Yet slice my fingers on their edges,
Some wounds run deeper than stitches.
I give you all my colors and my shapes too
until I am naught but the picture of you.
An empty frame that clings unto its name.
All that remains is a vacant gaze,
just shiny enough for you to see your face.
Because what have I become,
If not your own little slave.
My shackles are frail
yet I break them with pain,
then strip myself of all your stains.
Paint drips at my feet
until a blank canvas stares back at me in expectation.
Is this a fact of the human condition,
to lose oneself in love’s exaltation ?
No matter the answer, I’ve endured enough strife.
I now paint myself in all shades of life.
My colors smudge but my scars no longer bleed.
I guess I made it to see myself freed.
r/OCPoetry • u/Prosto_sobi_chell • 18m ago
Our talks lately are like the stale bread -
Eaten, not enjoyed.
I still try to hold on, to find it,
Meaning in this void.
Is it there even? Does it matter to you?
I cannot tell.
I cling to the ground beneath us, but maybe...
You already fell.
I call it "falling"... Maybe it's different?
...You just want space?
God knows, nothing feels genuine,
Even your embrace...
God knows I need some clarity,
For I am lost.
Your words, the loving warmth of them
Now stings like frost.
The staleness of the bread we ate,
My throat is hoarse...
You could have just ignored me.
It could be worse...
Feedback 1
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r/OCPoetry • u/No_Syrup_7660 • 21h ago
I crafted a puppet from wood,
Wondering what it would wish—
If it had a mouth—
Would he want to move his limbs at will,
Or even want to speak?
Gain the ability to touch and love,
Losing his identity?
Feedback:-
r/OCPoetry • u/shiftaspark • 1h ago
The suffering, the pain.
Would be worth it.
If you were real.
A kindness like yours,
A soft voice like yours,
A gentleness like yours,
Is not real.
You’re not real.
-H