They can break your heart, but they can't break your soul; poetry about lost love that comforts and uplifts.
I Wasn’t Built for Quiet Lives I was never good at neat endings, or lives that fit into polite conversations, my heart has always leaned toward damage,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 9 months ago in Poets
The Taj Mahal So Beautiful At dawn the marble learns the colour of prayer, White turning rose beneath a waking sky. A river holds its breath along the walls,
It takes a moment to heal But it hurts more to wait The moments I stood ahead Felt silence in each every step Went through the days
By Sheoli Rodrigo9 months ago in Poets
The Fading Fire The fire burns low in the hearth, its warmth fading into the quiet night, I sit with my hands close to the flames,
Kevin and I called it quits. We say we’re just friends now like it’s a firebreak, like it stops anything from sparking up between us.
By Tina D. Lopez9 months ago in Poets
i wish you'd use me as a match, strike me against all the rough surfaces, sandpaper, the sidewalk, your own edges. you used to call me blaze,
By Daniel K9 months ago in Poets
Life didn’t turn out the way I wanted My best decisions left me haunted With this idea that I was safer away from those that make me waver
By Jesse Lee9 months ago in Poets
If life is a cloud then, death is the rain Falling like a shroud over ash in a grave Searching for a flame or a spark to get started
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden9 months ago in Poets
I was the bright thing. The new tab left open. The song on repeat at 3 a.m. I was everything all at once. .............
By E.S.Flint 9 months ago in Poets
For a moment I thought I saw myself In her dark glance, I saw myself— But it was words alone that fell. I thought I could hear me cry
By Caitlin Charlton9 months ago in Poets
i found an old box of moms christmas decor in the back of my walkout closet i sat in the living room watching tv when i finally decided to rummage through it
Letters and Dust I open the old chest in the corner, dust motes drifting like tiny specters, letters and photographs spill into my lap,
