Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Poets.
Pickle in a Jar
Preoccupation with internal frustration has me pickled in a jar, and I'm not going far. I'm turning sour and cold. Some other being has control. When and where I'm consumed will soon unfold. Can I revive back to fresh? Vinegar in my flesh has cleansed my mortality. As far as morality, some like pickles. I shouldn't trickle on the thought of being forgotten. If I was a cucumber still, I'd be totally rotten by now. I was picked. I was tricked. Went for a swim under the rim. Turned sweet. Under the lid I hid before I bid ado. They chewed me up and swallowed me down, but the looks on their faces were upside down frowns. I admit that this is kind of sappy, but I'm content with the fact that I made you happy.
By Alexander Hanebrink7 years ago in Poets
Loneliness
I’m still breathing and talking, still seeing and walking. I am lifeless and dead, or so they said. But if that were so, why would I go. Breathing and walking, and saying hello. But as I walk along the coast, I feel like a ghost, cause I'm lonelier than most. I’m smelling, feeling, tasting jello, and yet I'm still just the loneliest fellow. They see me, feel me, and know I'm there, but they never ever ever ever seem to care. Life and death isn’t fair, but she doesn’t even care, with every last breath I will love her to death. But she won’t ever seem to care, Cause she won’t see me, feel me, or know I'm there. from the shadows my voice will scare, my love with skin so fair. that I wouldn’t dare, come out and prove i’m there. I wouldn’t dare, not to scare for that I am fair. FOR THAT I AM FAIR!
By Taylor Costa7 years ago in Poets