God's Unwanted God’s unwanted, you said over and over to me. Why? I came from a good family. I was good-looking, slim, always dressed nice.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 9 months ago in Poets
Cortisol Reduction Who needs a cortisol reduction when your seduction does it for me Stoic in the shadows but with the gentlest heart inside
By Nicole Higginbotham-Hogue9 months ago in Poets
Breaking the cycle honestly can't be that hard, can it? Parents tell us as kids that their family treated them like shit, As we get older, they go into more detail of how they were abused and neglected themselves.
By Jen Phillips9 months ago in Poets
The stores bleed red. ... Roses in plastic coffins. Chocolate hearts stacked like organs for transplant. Every aisle humming with the gospel of two.
By E.S.Flint 9 months ago in Poets
The evening bleeds out on the shoulder of stone, and the river grinds low in a marrow-deep tone. Wind claws through the thistle with splintered breath,
By shallon gregerson9 months ago in Poets
I once promised myself to never make the same mistake everybody else does… I promised to not continue the endless cycle of being played again,
By Edvin Sterling9 months ago in Poets
Does love demand sacrifice, or simply receive what’s offered? For all who love to answer. 🥀🕯🥀🕯🥀🕯🥀 The altar The middle
By Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin9 months ago in Poets
I dropped my coins at the bus stop Like my hands forgot how to be hands. They scattered little silver panics into the gutter water.
By Milan Milic9 months ago in Poets
They have all been put away Some are here to stay Others you will want to get out of their way For most it will be difficult to enjoy a day
By Christopher Beard9 months ago in Poets
Grandad Drunk went a courting Grandad set out in his shorts and tee, With a beer in one hand, as bold as could be. In the other, some flowers—though wilting, a mess,
Sat On A Rock In a little spot, where fishes play, Danny lit his joint, letting troubles drift away. With a cheeky grin and a carefree sigh,
It wasn't love, only a mirage trembling on the heated horizon of your hope. A cathedral of whispers built from borrowed tenderness,
By Gloria Penelope9 months ago in Poets
