They can break your heart, but they can't break your soul; poetry about lost love that comforts and uplifts.
To cut me open is to see my halos—loyal—our intervals: rain, famine, spring. Your sunlight alchemized me—✨golden✨— while I circled you…
By Gina C.2 years ago in Poets
We are all just ancient cosmic vessels of organic energy and memories. In love with violence, sex, heartbreak and constantly creating enemies.
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Poets
You packed your things and waited for morning to start the long drive back home and away from the life we made, but you stood there in front
By Kay Husnick2 years ago in Poets
Seems like just yesterday your cologned neck was pressed against my lipgloss. Or the wet inner part of your bottom lip was snatched
By Natasha Collazo2 years ago in Poets
We were like the flowers in the ground Waters of love grows us abound Like even the sunshine wains This love will die away
By Sarah Danaher2 years ago in Poets
For all the love we used to have And where did it go in the end Lost in the waves of our lives Complication burns bright
Distance grows, there is no time to waste As a festering wound, decay All the light has left your face Yet your features are schooled
By S.W.2 years ago in Poets
It was a different Monday vibe I checked my phone as usual We had fought a lot last night I was shocked as I read He was still angry
By Pamela Dirr2 years ago in Poets
After her, After I freed her in my mind, After I failed to love her, I knew she never loved me. She loved me as a friend,
By Justin Coccimiglio2 years ago in Poets
It was a cold night and I wasn't sure what was going to happen to me. I felt bad for myself and I don't understand why I endured it for so long. My thoughts were a fuzz and my soul felt numb. I was left out in front of a street that led to a shelter that was suppose to help me, but they couldn't. Instead, they sent me to a different location where friendly faces and warm welcomes were a lie. Lies that covered the room from wall to wall, top to bottom. Lies to the ones who actually wanted to leave and be free. Getting in the way of feeling like a "free" person and more like a criminal/troublemaker that needed to be placed somewhere they can see them to make sure that they don't get in trouble. Being watched was not the way, being a prisoner of a system like this is a nightmare. Not sure where any of this will get me, or any of us that share this story, but I hope that this is not the end.
By Moon2 years ago in Poets
I never thought I would see this day, Much less see the news first online. How did I NOT SEE the signs? Would things be different?
By Annie Edwards 2 years ago in Poets
I’m not a hoarder nor supporter, I collect disorder. I’m out of order with my order so I jump the border. Break the recorder, rob the skateboarder of his quarters
