~ ~ bile ~ ~ rises in me as I think of the pain ~ Pain ~ ~ ferments in me as I think of the grief ~ Grief ~ ~
By Paul Stewart12 months ago in Poets
dim the lights let eager eyes adjust to the absence of artificiality gaze upon the star chart directing you through my substance
By K.B. Silver 12 months ago in Poets
Consideration Of rain on the tin roof; late. Possibilities for connection Left dangling like snapped rope bridges. Melted chocolate left in the sun too long
By Ruby Red12 months ago in Poets
Roots are the echoes you inherit in your bones and breath, unshakable, endless. Yet, they can ache. A mother’s gentleness,
By Shehzad Anjum12 months ago in Poets
Why are you seeking looking to others, examining the steps they take trying to walk a mile in their shoes, deep down you know
By Alexander Stoddart12 months ago in Poets
I wear the mask of dad. the chef, the baker, washer of dishes, scrubber of bathrooms, the driver. I wear the mask of dad.
By Alex Boone12 months ago in Poets
To my lonely sister, the moon. It's dark as I sit here alone in my room, but never mind, Your company is always good when I sit here in complete solitude.
By Carol Ann Townend12 months ago in Poets
Broken Bones Don’t Stop Him Killing Me Rain hits the roof. He is downstairs waiting. I hear his breath. Like a beast. My arm still twisted.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 12 months ago in Poets
Demon Doctor Gave Me Someone Else’s Eyes He held the silver tray, light flickered on the walls, I heard no sound at first,
Mirror mirror before me stand tall Tell me how my words mean nothing at all I stare you in agony screaming from the soul Complaints of words in forms you think I don’t know
By Cadma12 months ago in Poets
These words aren’t what I’m supposed to say. I know they are not what I’m supposed to feel. But they’re stuck. And they’re escaping in the worst possible ways.
By Hannah Kawira Hartwell12 months ago in Poets
—- wore a white robe and walked down the stairs the same way as the rest of us. there was always this brightly glowing white ball behind us. the only thing shining in the pitch dark. and I’m pretty sure his belt had a snake pendant on it.
By h.a.laine12 months ago in Poets
