Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Poets.
Hold On; Let Go
I ripped my fucking hand Tore open the skin Exposed the muscle And stared at the hole begging for closure I bled out in a car that ran on broken dreams
scarlett wPublished 7 years ago in PoetsEndless Road
Runnin down this endless road. Pavin never with gold. Wishing there was more I can do. To save us all from the devils coo.
Amanda ThurnherrPublished 7 years ago in PoetsI Broke My Heart
I broke my heart once to see what would happen. Would I cry? Would I die? Would I wait for relief? You cascaded your way to me on bended knee.
If Only (Only If)
If only, if only, two simple words With power to send out ideas in a surge If only we were equal If only there were peace
Haley AinsworthPublished 7 years ago in PoetsFairy Tale
Come dance with me Under the stormy sky We'll play with the netherlings Listen to all the melodies they sing Fair and beautiful, they all seem
Amanda ThurnherrPublished 7 years ago in PoetsHim
Today Today, I don’t feel it. I don’t feel the threads slap on my heart As the wind swims through my bones. I don’t feel the devious stitches taunting me,
Ivy FaleroPublished 7 years ago in PoetsSun and Moon
Light and darkness in a constant battle over man kind, over the earth. Sun and Moon, power over electricity, power over water.
Dragon Matthew Wood - HillmanPublished 7 years ago in PoetsLoss
Life always felt annoyingly normal when everyone was still on this Earth In a single blink of an eye, people can be taken from you
Alexa HaerPublished 7 years ago in PoetsAutumn
Autumn dearest. You are drawing near. You are here in technicality. But I still have yet to fully feel you. I try every year to distinguish why I love you so. Is it the wind and chill in the air? Is it the smell of crisp leaves and brisk mornings? Is it the colors orange and gold and red gleaming in the sun? How do you make me feel what I feel and leave me in the unknown limbo of what to call it?
Emily ValdezPublished 7 years ago in PoetsDon't Touch This II
(I'm Ready) trying to get back into the swing of things - trying to push myself over the edge of a cliff, to fall back into an uncomfortably familiar rhythm - trying to be ready, now. ready to? to feel again, and not just pretend to. to write, and to mean it. to grasp control, and push it to its very limits without losing it, without spiraling. trying to stare at myself as a language I can learn, and then to learn it, and then to know myself, and then to reformulate what has been lost around this core of known.
Candlelight
I watch you dance in my eyes, flickering but never extinguished. I see how you glow and I wait. I wonder. I hear the crackle and I feel at home. Candlelight, you know me. And I know you.
Emily ValdezPublished 7 years ago in PoetsConstruction
I worked with two Irishmen. One had no hair on his knuckles from smoking cigarettes to the filter. The other was my boss.
Fiachra O'Published 7 years ago in Poets