Got bit by the writing bug.
We heard their scorn drift on the airwaves but too late to reach us up here. Where we climbed above them to the mountaintop
By Bugsy Watts12 months ago in Poets
The snow is falling fluffy outside landing delicately on the windowsill. No one should disturb the blanket save a lone rabbit wandering home.
By Bugsy Wattsabout a year ago in Poets
The society is addicted to this, that, the other. To pretend I am exempt is a flame I cannot smother. Laying phones and approval in lines
They crooned from the lake where they stayed for the day, their sad song was haunting yet a comfort, some would say.
the universe knocks a sharp thundering brilliance ignore me, I beg
I know your mind like the back of my hand and can see it holding yours like we did at age ten, laughing joyously on the playground
unlocked the secret landed in blue, then shot past straight to the beyond
Lids flutter closed, sight could not distract a sharp inhale to notice orange on your breath hearing the blood rushing quickly
I followed the thread to the end. Or I tried. Mom told me to stop pulling, "it'll just get more tangled!" but when I pulled before,
The days don’t fit inside my pockets anymore. I never had to think about their size and shape before. The hours used to trundle
Singing the words felt right for this inexplicable moment when my entire being was laid bare before you. Even as fear swept over my vision,
Softly, darkness lay like a blanket, holding the world as it breathed deeply. Inside, everyone was still dreaming, not yet ready to stir before the dawn. A
