Tag: poetry

  • Dear Life,

    I think I’m falling in love with you.

  • alone together

    Sorrow’s fingertips shush the last warm light and the twilight shines pale again. the breathing next to me doesn’t cease. though, i guess mine doesn’t either. i suppose that’s what we call a win.

  • Ainsley and her permanent spring

    Feet cold, pressed on the linoleum floor.  She feels it all around her, But not in her. Not yet.

  • Bosie

    Bosie

    I picture this: two hands  meet in the darkness, and for a moment, real love existed like no other had before.

  • Garden Room Reflections

    If I had a garden of mirrors  would one tell me what I look like would one tell me what to do would one tell me if I mumble too much would one tell me  my faults would one tell me my future would one tell me how to stick it to the man (properly)…

  • Ophelia

    Ophelia of the lonely lake, can you hear me as I do you? You are in my mind, and you are miming my death Again. And Again. And Again. Ophelia of the mourning mountains, night before last, I dreamt I was a star shining and shooting with infinity above. But when I woke, I saw…

  • winter air 

    you are the cold and frigid; winter air. deprived of warmth and dry on my skin-flaking neck. i am not one to  cower away from the touch of air, it is a necessity, after all. but now i want to block off all my pores, and hold my breath forever. you took my clean warm…

  • Cut me

    A blanket of tranquility with the ability to burn  Vessel of the universe’s infinite stardust  Rim red, around my moon, tides the ocean churns Smutty jest and intimacy eclipse lust  Be my earthly companion to trodden this opulent orb and sprout spring flowers  Your voice like a hymn because divinity is within you  Drown my…

  • Intimacy

    Intimacy

    and there we were together, in the dark, frantic and fearful. she smelt like sweet hair conditioner and sunshine and vanilla. i could feel every breath escaping her lips and sweep past my shoulders.

  • Second Choice

    Second Choice

    i have always been the second choice.  my daddy would choose cigarettes and anger over his little girl – the red hot anger consuming him so deeply that he didn’t care who his fire would burn i did everything in my power to make him love me  dancing in the dark kitchen with him –…