Top Stories
Stories in Poets that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
we all slum it in the end
we all slum it in the end even when we turn dirt to gold refuse to do what we're told turn gold to dirt refuse to do
Paul StewartPublished 4 days ago in Poetsyour vodka and spite.
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
Dignity
I will not smash your car up although the thought did once occur I will not post the truth on socials and then block you.
TheSpinstressPublished 3 days ago in PoetsOut with the Old
Have you persisted at tasks or relationships, though the labours hardly bore fruit? We hang on to things that no longer serve any purpose because we have an attachment to them.
Michelle LiewPublished 2 days ago in PoetsMaking Time
If Time had wandered weary in And sat him down to drink, And whispered in his weary voice "I have no time to think", I'd take my father's face to mine
Hannah MoorePublished 4 days ago in PoetsMirages
I’d always placed you on a pedestal. Incredible you were--your castle glimmered in the sky. I was always stagnant as I watched you there:
new world
there is no escape from cement-bourne memories habits forced deep into genetics until they blend forwards with the self a cage familiar yet no less daunting
Turning Pages of Life
Life’s like a book — some parts are good, others not so much. Still, keep turning the pages; you might find the best chapter next. If someone hurts you, choose to forgive or just let it be, but never change who you are for them.
Emily Chan - Life and love sharingPublished 5 days ago in PoetsInfidelity
engulfed in her, seaweed hair buffed secular friction between her unibrow. Etched with intoxicating finesse. Camel molars winced crooked in her mouth as she relaxed her tongue,
Natasha CollazoPublished 9 days ago in PoetsWriting is my Addiction
Writing is my addiction. I don’t see it as an affliction even though it continues in repetition. I have to write everyday. Life holds no real sense of glory unless I’m in my writing closet crafting a story.
Joe PattersonPublished 7 days ago in PoetsThe Moon is Chaos
Even now, I think about your vulnerable waxing, clinging to us with a bold strobe-light, spotlight, nestling your tragedies
Mackenzie DavisPublished 9 days ago in PoetsAsk Me In December
Ask me in December If I love you And I will close my eyes and smile I will take my time before I speak I will breathe you in like a candle of pine
angela hepworthPublished 11 days ago in Poets