How can I describe... what life is like, with a mind in constant search of some kind of stimulation... while at the very same time,
By JM2 years ago in Poets
sloth head, pulse and throb eyes, heavy and red glazed over from the screen this mind death chews and gnaws at me this poison seeping in
By angela hepworth2 years ago in Poets
Loving you isn’t simple, it’s a challenge, a raw truth I embrace every day. I know you’ve weathered storms and carried scars that whisper of battles fought in silence. Still, I long to be the shelter for your weary heart, the calm in the chaos, the steady hand when you feel you’re about to fall.
By Cai Fox2 years ago in Poets
Inheritance of Old Wounds I hold them in my hands— the fragments of my parents, splintered love and jagged words, hymns of hunger, songs of toil.
By Katie L. Kashan2 years ago in Poets
Am I Saying it all wrong? Is fluid retention caused by bitter tears, Is heartbreak caused by the hurt you hit mine with? Is longing the result of blindly pretending not to see?
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 2 years ago in Poets
We cradle screens like wounded birds, our voices trapped in pixeled words. Each notification’s shrill demand a world that thrives on trembling hands.
By Ian Sankan2 years ago in Poets
Beneath the skin, a silent storm a clockwork heart, a mind unsworn. We stitch our scars with borrowed light, while shadows duel in endless night.
It's fine... say it once, say it twice. It's fine... say it ten more times but you don't believe that, do you? the grievance in your heart doesn't fade, does it?
By Jessica Onyenibeji 2 years ago in Poets
I asked if we could talk so I had something to write about Two days later you are still on my mind Still have me wishing you are truly mine
By L.I.E2 years ago in Poets
Cold, black elixir trickling down my throat Some days it is warm as its cream fills my gut Its energy powers my life Without it
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
It really depends on the day But just now Cinnamon apples Even though it's May Crisp juicy and green Braised in the liquids
By K.B. Silver 2 years ago in Poets
if people were made of bread, we'd be soggy in the middle blood and life matter sodden the glutanimated structure within us all.
By Paul Stewart2 years ago in Poets
