Writing helps me express things I don’t know how to rid my brain of otherwise.
Mother mends my moonstones, meticulously minding more mere minutes mocking moonlight Mother's mad.
By Michaela Delaney 3 years ago in Poets
Tommy's tame, tenaciously thrilled "Ten thousand" Tommy tells Tension tickles tongues tonight Tremendous treasure's the target
Strawberry Sundaes Satisfy Summer Saturdays Sacred Seeds Slumber Safely Surrounding Smiles Seductively Scandalous, Strangely Stimulating
I apologize for the stench which is like a profuse number of rotting corpses laid out before us as we kneel like praying
Scorched air lit a fire Black clouds spilled buckets of rain Still, it burned the earth
Inspired by a dream where I was swarmed and stung to death by bees.. _______________________________ The bees sting at night
imagine every dream you have is in a vile post-apocalyptic world why is it that my third grade teacher is living inside of a bunker with me
something isn't right the air is stiff, your image distorted we are sitting on the couch, yet it doesn't feel home something isn't right
the cookie monster was not a monster at all he was just hungry
i had one question how could a pill so minute steal your breath away
they found your jeans, ripped on the trail you took to school but they didn't find you
you were to call me from the hospital, if things were fine the phone never rang
