heartbreak
They can break your heart, but they can't break your soul; poetry about lost love that comforts and uplifts.
Spilled Paint
I’m like the paint you try to re-do when you mess up, The kind that streaks your canvas, And makes you want to give up.
Erica ScottPublished 10 months ago in PoetsOh, a Night.
The man who tried to shoot my mother and I is now dying of cancer. She visits him every night. But I can’t forget the echo of the gun or how fast my heart beat. I can’t erase the smell of liquor on his breath or the taillights of my mother as she, without me, drove off and left. I can’t un-feel the grass on my soles or the cool breeze of that March. I can’t unhear how he said my name in the tone of a man ready to die. I can’t unsee the gun pointed towards my face, then at his, as he noticed the tears in my eyes. He’s dying of cancer, and she visits him every night. But I’ve been living with his death ever since the incident, the one she never admits.
Erica ScottPublished 10 months ago in PoetsTHE WANDERER
J.R.R Tolkien was a mother loving genius I mean that technically he was very catholic and he loved the virgin mary but that's not what made him a great writer what makes tolkien stand out among writers is that he was not a writer he was a scholar one of the truly great scholars of the middle ages most of his time was spent not writing novels but as a professor of anglo-saxon and english language and literature at oxford breaking ground in those fields and translating numerous medieval works including the famous beowulf hemingway once wrote that a good writer should know as near everything as possible and that was certainly true of tolkien at least when it came to the middle ages he had a pervasive knowledge of historical facts and cultures and human beings especially of the medieval flavor tolkien had a higher dosage of reality than most of us do and was therefore able to incorporate a high dose of reality into his fictional novels there's no better example of this than the anglo-saxon poem called the wanderer a poem that tolkien loved studied and
Hezron DentehPublished 10 months ago in PoetsPsychotic Reactions and Carburetor Dung
Lester Bangs: rock fan... Critic; writer; lived and loved... See Almost Famous... He knew... * Thank you for reading!
Kendall DefoePublished 10 months ago in PoetsIn Defiance of `Immortality`
TW: death, grief, loss of a pet "Do not stand at my grave and weep" - Well then, perhaps I shall simply sit with you a while, And I shall mourn, and write a little.
Stephanie WilsonPublished 10 months ago in Poets- Content Warning
~ A Girl named Blue!~
I don't want to be haunted by you I don't want to be haunted by that kiss, I don't want to be haunted by that physical desire
Jennifer CooleyPublished 10 months ago in Poets - Content Warning
YOU
You are the reason I lie awake at night - eyes wide and heart bursting out of my ribcage. You are the reason I toss and turn, desperate for relief,
Amanda StarksPublished 10 months ago in Poets Diary of a Midwife
I dig my heels into Chester’s flank, riding the Upper Creek, saddlebags flapping. Hazel had a rough delivery two nights ago. Twins. Bitty things. They’s sucklin’ when I left. Not no more.
Cathy SchieffelinPublished 10 months ago in PoetsThe Veil
The picture of you sitting in that Old beat-up Queen Anne style chair That flitted across my computer screen yesterday
Julie O'Hara - Author, Poet and Spiritual WarriorPublished 10 months ago in PoetsBeyond the Generational Divide
In the land where we were born, dear Nigeria, we are the youth, not mere kids, Yet, in your presence, it seems you withhold affectionate bids.
Love After Heartbreak
In the heart of a bustling, big cold city, lived a young girl named Emma. The towering skyscrapers and busy streets had always felt like home to her, but beneath her cheerful facade, Emma carried a burden that only a few knew—the weight of a shattered heart.
Jack RunnerPublished 10 months ago in PoetsGhost Stories
Where are you now? Who knows? But my phantom… Our ghosts slip from our bodies nightly to Convene At three AM, Transmuting above the Atlantic,
Anji KaizenPublished 10 months ago in Poets