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Hello again! For those of you who are regulars, welcome back. For those of you who are new, here are the rules (or lack of them).
By Poppy a day ago in Writers
There is a mosaic Beneath my feet Pages of poems Torn and taped together ❀ Beneath the soil There is blood And broken bones
By Poppy 4 days ago in Poets
This is a flag of victory Being raised up into The star speckled Infinite sky ❀ I stitched my own wounds With a burning needle and
By Poppy 11 days ago in Poets
You had antiseptic hands and medicinal words and I placed my trust in them, told you it was heavier than the pieces of my heart.
By Poppy 24 days ago in Poets
Jail bars Ice cold between my closed hands I hated the lack of clean air But adored the feeling of A roof over my head (I knew what hail felt like)
By Poppy about a month ago in Poets
Welcome back to Poppy’s Prompts!! Here’s the rest of the series if you’d like to check it out or read what it’s about: January February March April The Prompts
By Poppy about a month ago in Writers
If I stayed I would’ve been Letting myself get Autopsied alive ❀ If I left I would’ve Become a carcass Rotting with guilt
I have cut my hands On the silhouette of your name For a year now ❀ You got my letter My question My plea Fed it to the fire
By Poppy 2 months ago in Poets
Note: This was inspired by a comment Paul made about my March Prompts. He mentioned the words made him think of things left behind and a poem instantly started writing itself in my head when I read that. Thanks Paul.
We were drunk on promises and high on healing and overdosing on a belief that we were invincible. Not as individuals but as a fused entity.
Poppy's Prompts is discontinued... ❀ ❀ ❀ APRIL FOOLS'! (If you're in Australia, otherwise early or late April Fools' I guess.)
By Poppy 2 months ago in Writers
When did you last hold your own needle, stitch up your own heart? When was the last time you searched the cabinet for antiseptic, not poison? The last time you peeled back a band-aid wrapper, rather than your own skin?