The Paper That Spoke My Name Ink settles like truth across a quiet morning, Fingers trace stories that feel far too close,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 7 months ago in Poets
The Life I Didn’t Choose I thought a ring would quiet the noise in my chest, That standing beside you would feel like coming home,
Where the Roses Hold Roses climb where shadows fall, Soft and fierce against it all, Petals bloom in burning red, Over words we never said.
Blood on the hand that toils. Sweat on the brow that stains. Hard work done as the end of the day looms near. For such a soul,
By Dean Traylor7 months ago in Poets
Oh death, must you take even this? This joy closest to the divine, this rapture furthest from despair. To love is to commit suicide;
By Amanda Starks7 months ago in Poets
Every morning, every night, she sat in the room waiting for something. She lived her life between silken wallpaper and Chantilly silverware,
By Imola Tóth7 months ago in Poets
A chord hums somewhere and suddenly you’re there again sunlight caught in your eyes like something I almost understood your fingers brushing mine, teaching silence how to speak
By Aarsh Malik7 months ago in Poets
YOUR EYES So deep chocolate brown * It was a rough day. There are times when work is an enjoyable breeze for the hours I’m there.
By Margaret Brennan7 months ago in Poets
Where The Bright Ones Gather They stand in rows, yet none are truly matching, Each one adorned with stories of their own,
I dreamt of a pendulum-- of hiding in a chandelier full of spectral taunts, that you pushed and pulled against my weight,
By Paul Aaron Domenick7 months ago in Poets
I’m not interested in any frigid bitch philosophy damning me for my sexuality. Bring your dry kiss to the left cheek of my luxurious ass
By Harper Lewis 7 months ago in Poets
The Small King In The Rain A fragile crown rests gently on his feathers, A quiet claim the world has never heard, He stands beneath the turning of the weathers,
