Love poems for hopeless romantics; I'm the poet and you're my muse.
A Different Breed of Woman She rose from fire with quiet grace, a steady breath that would not fade. Light traced her skin
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 10 months ago in Poets
Your presence settles quietly inside me, steady as breath, held close in a way that softens the edges of even the longest roads.
By Printique Studios10 months ago in Poets
The World Without Them I learned to leave, what never stayed, what never knew my real heart. I held the truth, longer than needed,
I carved with love, my name, into that bark like I was leaving a tattoo The ones I also etched into my heart Root to stem it played a part
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden10 months ago in Poets
You were the silence between words the space that taught me to breathe, the weight of the world resting on your shoulders
By Aarsh Malik10 months ago in Poets
My Drowning Heart It sinks beneath relentless waves, each pulse swallowed by the tide. Air escapes with every thought, leaving me to wonder if I will rise again.
here there's an egg roll that tastes like childhood and what children have we become laughter fills the leaves of our garden
By River and Celia in Underland10 months ago in Poets
I fell to you a fettered acorn-child Not seeing the ambition held under my scalloped acorn-crown. I bounced upon your fecund ground.
By John R. Godwin10 months ago in Poets
He was feeling good that day. Really good. He walked into the store, shrouded in an impenetrable magnetism. A confidence that could only be described as organic, natural, exuberant, exciting!
By Jonathan Mandel10 months ago in Poets
I’ve sat alone in rooms full of people, shrinking myself to fit the silence they expected from me. My words disappear the moment they leave my mouth—
By Hannah Lambert10 months ago in Poets
My Mixed-Up Head Thoughts collide like storms inside me, voices twisting into confusion. Truth and fear blur together, and the walls of my mind feel too small.
I. Window slides open, one clear night. It slides open, and my lady ghost appears, floating in the cold, cold breeze. II.
By Dean Traylor10 months ago in Poets
