Love poems for hopeless romantics; I'm the poet and you're my muse.
If you find this letter, Between whispers of wind and candle smoke, In a place where the stars are mirrors and the moon wears a crown of glass
By Kevinabout a year ago in Poets
I was your favorite mirror— you loved how I made you look. Fed me fiction with a smile, and I memorized the book. You said I was rare,
By Brie Boleynabout a year ago in Poets
Twist ties and umbilical cords Every highway entrance is a noodle Every exit is a pretzel We are constantly twisting ourselves in and out of situations
By Saeed Ullah about a year ago in Poets
I was reading You walked in Our gazes grazed Both whispered smiles For two hours We stole glances Uncertain If in mutual interest
By Aaron Morrisonabout a year ago in Poets
Echoes slithered up the staircase. Formless serpents emerging from the crawlspace. Dissolving through cracks, gaps, and voids within the walls,
By Kale Sinclairabout a year ago in Poets
A Spell to Live, a Spell to Die Good witch, bad witch, who am I? I stirred the broth at quarter moonwalk a pinch of sage, a touch of rue
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
I see my future in your lies - A life of sheer bliss Wrapped in a white picket fence - I see our kids with your fear and my heart
By Tiffiney Cornishabout a year ago in Poets
The Lionesses Win for England They ran, they fought, they would not fall in shirts of red, they gave their all with grit beneath each measured pass
Adorable, cute, cheesy, young. Random— but true. Staring wisdom eye to eye, fortune-telling our fortunes, sharing a single sidewalk
By Marcus Hillabout a year ago in Poets
July is a traveller Who moves between Spring profusion And harvest’s satisfaction She is a thunderstorm Humming low notes
By Aspen Marie about a year ago in Poets
I wrote your name in quiet nights, Between the wrongs, between the rights. Each word a tear, each line a plea, For love that lived but couldn’t be.
By Emma about a year ago in Poets
Caught in the moment before eyes open The world is silent and unspoken There's a shred of dream left inside I can almost touch it as worlds collide
By Christina Vanhaerentsabout a year ago in Poets
