The Woman Who Woke In Different Years Every night she slept inside her bed, Then woke somewhere completely out of place, One evening in the winter of 1983,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 6 months ago in Poets
The Magic Paint Brush Cold air moves through empty rooms a brush stirs awake in silence dipped in colour, thick with life
I loathe a campaign even more than I hate a fucking parade, unless it’s a Pride Parade— those are actually worth the crowds
By Harper Lewis 6 months ago in Poets
I've grown sick of the word "quiet," the way it appears quietly inserting itself where it doesn't belong, but it isn't quiet at all; it's loud.
By Kay Husnick6 months ago in Poets
Ask me why, and I’ll hand you my pen, tell me not to go, And I’ll trace the outline of your final words against my skin. You demand a line, a tune, a hymn to hum, something to fall asleep to
By Kera Hollow6 months ago in Poets
Before I finish my story, someone interrupts. I’ll stir melting ice with a straw and watch attention go toward the louder mouths around the table, settling down
By Tina D. Lopez6 months ago in Poets
The Pen That Magicked Poems Onto Paper It sleeps inside a cracked case waiting for breath to return ink thick as forgotten vows
The Body That Remembered Dance I slipped beneath thought without warning This memory had been waiting for years and finally found the opening to return
The Mirror That Remembered Me The mirror changed each time I walked away, Its surface held expressions not my own, One night I caught a woman dressed in black,
verse 1 I keep the kitchen light on, just to see the shape of you Messages from yesterday ,things we said that weren’t true
By Chxse6 months ago in Poets
girls like her That want to be free. The sun glows through their hair. Why can’t that be me. The one who’s grades are always A’s
The air quickens with energy of things as thunder, lightning strike me split. You talk but say nothing yet it all means insanity.
By WrittenWritRalf6 months ago in Poets
