They can break your heart, but they can't break your soul; poetry about lost love that comforts and uplifts.
Why, God? Why have you given me this feeling heart? I see what others won’t. I feel what others can’t. I sense what others don’t.
By Tanja Vasev11 months ago in Poets
when I close my eyes To remember your Ayla, that circle of ethereal, eternal burning light My brain fine tunes the beam into feverish, crying music
By Melissa Ingoldsby11 months ago in Poets
Rust-Tasting Hope I’ve drunk from chipped enamel cups, from faucets lined with red, from pipes that coughed up yesterday and iron in the bread.
By Milan Milic11 months ago in Poets
You give me what I want I'll give you what you need I cannot help but taunt . How can you withstand a taunt When you want to drink me like honey mead
By Ariana GonBon11 months ago in Poets
Dear Moon, I used to hold your light in my hands, small and trembling, as if I could cradle the night itself. You were all glow and breath and heartbeat,
By Aspen Noble11 months ago in Poets
Don’t Be Sorry Be You Do not shrink down to fit their hands, do not apologise for breath, you were not made to dim your light,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 11 months ago in Poets
You were a flat pale tab in the sky the night my world was upended. . I was going to pick up takeout, a routine that felt absurd, barren, in light of everything,
By Raistlin Allen11 months ago in Poets
dear halo of hers, did she let her hair down tonight? is her duvet still grey? do her eyebrows still tell on her? i guess what i'm trying to say to you is that you see her in ways i don't anymore. you hover above her city the way you do mine, with pale indifference. you are the impartial witness to how her name still quivers in my mouth.
By Daniel K11 months ago in Poets
I am tired in ways the sun can never warm, bones humming like streetlights that never turn off. They call it resilience and strength
By Cadma11 months ago in Poets
A Letter to the Moon Dear Moon, I write this letter softly, with trembling hands and hopeful eyes, for you are closer to heaven than I am,
Dear Moon, old lantern nailed into the sky, I write at last and wait for your reply. You’ve watched empires crumble into dust and stone,
The Soft Apocalypse The world did not explode on cue or split along its spine; It frayed in little tender ways—like yours and sometimes mine.
