Next Door’s Cat Stole My Steak I left it cooling by the window ledge, A masterpiece, cooked nearly to fate, Turned my back for half a second,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 5 months ago in Poets
I need to honor her! Me, a wandering young soul and the careful and the ever-worried heart of a woman born a few years before 1900 and who carried the emblem of her family and love for God until the late 80s! I believe she passed away in 1994 or 1995!
By CA'Di LUCE * Confessions & Memories in Conversations with friends!/ It’s not a revolution—it’s a quiet evolution.5 months ago in Poets
Open to me Show me all Share all Bare your soul to me. Only me. When you are standing naked before me, I will share with you
By Julie Lacksonen5 months ago in Poets
You Can’t See Them but They Are Here You can’t see them but they are here In moments nobody names In rooms that hold old feelings
By evening,the hallway always feels occupied. Not crowded. Just occupied. As if someone has stepped awayand forgotten to take the shape of themselves with them.
By Aarsh Malik5 months ago in Poets
Liquids following the path of least resistance blood pulsing lava flowing waters snaking from mountains to oceans and lowlands
A sudden wave of nausea hits. Thick and slick in the air around me. Drowning me in it. A gasp. A whine of my lungs as I try to breathe in.
By Chel Writes5 months ago in Poets
Shadows deepen. They slowly close in. Encroaching on my vision's edge. Looming. Elongating. Hovering. Stagnant air. A soft, borrowed breath.
By D. L. Webster5 months ago in Poets
I woke up this morning. ... I wanted to stay in bed but I couldn't, I have Responsibilities. I wanted to go watch tv but I wouldn't,
By Dylan 5 months ago in Poets
In my earliest memories I see Displayed prominently in our mid 1970s kitchen A black and white picture of Baby Me Being held by a man with pale skin and big, kind eyes
By Gene Lass5 months ago in Poets
My heart bleeds, needs you You are kind, blind to me Continually, I sigh, shy away Later, an obtuse excuse occurs to me I slink, wink into your office.
My love is a mirror I always stand behind; a witness silent as paralysis but not blind- oh no, not blind. Your love is a weapon
By Darcie M. Trembley5 months ago in Poets
