heartbreak
They can break your heart, but they can't break your soul; poetry about lost love that comforts and uplifts.
Come Wednesday. Top Story - October 2026. Content Warning.
Come Wednesday, might this window view be brighter Nor'easter turbulence Dumps another round of rain Nature's unsettled womb; it's personal Forehead to pane Whipping wind pulls my chest tighter Tears Midstream drought Raw, irritated, swollen, moisture-stripped eyes Awkward silence Oriel reflection; side view Less than a bump Side-eyed empty cradle Waiting for the arrival of grace Recalling when hope didn't deliver Fear: am I unable Coastal collision colors corneas clay Come Wednesday, might this window view be clearer Weather satellite; comma-shaped storm Counterclockwise If I could go back Would I heed the forecast Connect one thing to the next Outline probabilities Foretell context Empty clothesline flaps in the wind Lawn chair flips across the yard Off-season treason Body overthrows heart Head to pane Matrix mindful— pear-shaped lies Come Wednesday, might this window view be forgiven Sun's reclamation Will Gaia apologize to the garden Or ask her to act as if nothing ever happened Eroded Goldenrod Corroded potted Chrysanthemums Bruising outlook Landscape stamp on my heart Open screen; hand out Fertility prayers Mother-wuthered seeds palm mitted Heart's black and blue Nature's embryotic reassignment Personal Anemochory; biological memory Oh, when will yellow and purple finally make green Come Wednesday, might this window view look brighter Terra, don't clap back to my thunder I've seen it earlier Same date, different year Kindly Precipitation prelude positive prognosis May open heavens bless me So I am not repulsed by the gods Because I've been here before Riding Climate carousel Exit retrospect Function missing extra pulse Heartbeat hymns Short window; today is Sunday Appointment. Anniversary Birth-death-one breath Window view blues Erratic forecast Three days and waiting What will happen come Wednesday
By Marilyn Glover9 days ago in Poets
Leaping Into Eternity. Content Warning.
Shiny new rollerblades reflect Christmas tree lights. Kneepads lie forlorn like forgotten babies, but it is evident that their black hardness will not protect him from this. All night it was her footsteps he listened for. On the cold December day he tells me "We found my mother…” These black and purple skates with the promise of spring and flight can't save him now. Two boys lean out a third floor window at one thirty in the morning; their whispers travel on the crisp winter air - "Look at the moon - Cindy means moon." Tree branches like claws hold the hard agate moon while roots burrow deep to the heart, the earth, the worm. Memories fall like tears and orange peels on the glass coffee table in the room where Cindy lived. The moon is fierce and angry but still. This angel laughing, sunkissed, freckled soars from the bridge to fly over rooftops, free of roses and ringlets and rust-tinted lips. Perfect fabrics bind her no more. Her watercolours weep in the darkness of the cruel night, so cold the stars sparkle blue and uncomprehending.
By Marie Wilson9 days ago in Poets
Incubus of Dreams
A long journey or expression Pouring out of the soul and mind A lifetime of tales unwind You suffer and bleed for every word The costs are high, wide, and deep Yet something takes what you can’t keep Knowledge and data collected Used to one’s disadvantage You have no purchase to leverage
By Alexandra Grant10 days ago in Poets
Estrella Del Mar
Listen to this song, I have no idea what the words mean but I understand it all completely. And it takes me to an afternoon, with you. With nothing to do. Just the unfurling of the hours as the melody builds to a crest. Listen to this song. It will take you there. It will bring you here. Here. With me.
By Leon Jacobs10 days ago in Poets
