art
Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
This Isn’t AI, It’s a Pulse
This Isn’t AI, It’s a Pulse The Clique That Mistook Life for AI Disclaimer: These stories come from my own hands, my own notes, and my own lived years. I write them, shape them, and polish them myself the same way I edit my videos and create my music. This is my voice, my blues, my work.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli about a month ago in Poets
Vanilla Sage
Sitting in the shadows amongst my isolated thoughts, with the slight obnoxious flicker of the candle he bought me when he was ‘just thinking of me’. Vanilla Sage. ‘Melts consistently and evenly, radiating enough fragrance to fill an entire room’. But I prefer October. The orange flickering flame burns holes into my deliberations; while the sweet extracts of vanilla distract me from the voices premeditating, the evil sins I am hoping on committing for October.
By tatiana vitasabout a month ago in Poets
