Stream of Consciousness

take alternatives. Content Warning.
the hierophant, the backwards fool, and the emperor all find justice together, but just between us it looks good, for a thin surface
By ⸘jason alan‽2 years ago in Poets
Lake Phantasmagorical
Lake attire’s on canoe and paddles ready bon voyage buddy! 🚣🚣🚣🚣🚣 The golden sun hides whipped cream clouds fly like pigeons
By Talia Devora2 years ago in Poets
Presque Happy?
as we embrace the thoughts of tonight's dreamless sleep promise me the sun will rise again promise me, my love that life is more
By Paul Stewart2 years ago in Poets
From Whispered Grief to Eruptive Memory
a tempest won't rip through the streets of your town neither will the rain pelt the surface of the earth more or less than it did the day before or will
By Paul Stewart2 years ago in Poets
If Tomorrow Starts Without Me
If tomorrow starts without me, I want the moon to shine brightly, travel through its phases from New Dark Moon through Quarter Moon, shining half,
By Andrea Corwin 2 years ago in Poets
Rising Sun. Content Warning.
If tomorrow starts without me, Who will notice? Who will stand by my graveside, Who will weep? Faces flash through my mind,
By Alexander McEvoy2 years ago in Poets
Think of
Have you, in the country’s south, seen those red bean trees? How many have sprouted in the spring breeze? Gather more of their seeds if you please.
By laopai2 years ago in Poets
Stubborn Or Stupid
The way is fragile The lines are hard Life, it's a battle Giving calico scars I remember the beginning Don’t know when it slipped away
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden2 years ago in Poets
The Unfolding Story
Twist, Twist, Twist. The key unlocks the past. A melody from memories. Moments too beautiful to last. A story encased in glass.
By Staringale2 years ago in Poets
Writer Pains
writer pains; the struggle of finding something new to talk about... to write about. the struggle of finding something new
By 'Lissa Stufflestreet2 years ago in Poets
Daydreaming (am i?)
Caught in the haze of life's drizzling grays ... whose idea were Mondays? The endless scroll through the sunshine and the rainbows
By Ellie Hoovs2 years ago in Poets
Overextended
I am always overextending myself to be helpful, taking on extra shifts and late-night calls, piling on others' troubles while mine simmer below, offering up snippets of my free time to the peanut gallery in between. I read once about the importance of a self, but I cannot remember the last time I saw my own looking back at me in bus stop and computer screen reflections. The girl in the mirror is tired, always so very tired, from this vicious cycle of pain and reinvention and lost identity and the rebirth of her image from events that proved fatal, still eating away at her reincarnation.
By Kay Husnick2 years ago in Poets