Ship Without A Name Wood strains under unseen pressure, a vessel drifting without direction or claim, no map drawn, no voice to guide it,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 5 months ago in Poets
There are occasions when I forget for a while, the way that I see things, in a special style. I will translate what I can absorb, of the reappearing image seen through the lens of my curved orb.
By Katherine D. Graham5 months ago in Poets
Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without words, and never stops at all. - Emily Dickinson, "Hope Is The Thing With Feathers"
By Alexandria Stanwyck5 months ago in Poets
Behold… There’s that face I know again; There’s that face I would know anywhere. 🎭+}~#~🎭 I don’t need it to return again,
By Gabriel B. Shames5 months ago in Poets
It creeps And it crawls At the base of your skull It gnaws Its claws They grab And they reach At the palms of your hands
By Alyssa Musso5 months ago in Poets
Tuesday night, and I am sat outside your room again, In the chair that is too wide for the space, Trying to keep my pain inside the lines
By Hannah Moore5 months ago in Poets
Nothing ends the way we think it does. It only leaves the version of the world where we can still see it. A word spoken once
By Ajan Lori A. 5 months ago in Poets
The knock was soft. Not the kind that belongs to someone who still lives there but the kind that waits, unsure if it should be answered.
Time Dilation of Absence Time is not what we were told, it does not move in a straight, kind line, it bends, stretches, distorts,
Lights — Camera — Action * before the moment arrived, I felt like I was about to conquer the world, or at least the room. I knew what I
By Lamar Wiggins5 months ago in Poets
Entropy Skin It begins at the smallest level, a shift you cannot see, atoms loosening their quiet grip, on what they once held together.
Salty air bites the shore line and the tide pulls back its sleeves It leaves the shore to wonder about the things it used to believe
By Sara Wilson5 months ago in Poets
