poetry in progress
There is a lake In the middle of A rainforest Serene yet chilling waters Lapping at ankles tauntingly Daring its visitors to leap
By Poppy 3 years ago in Poets
Dear Depression, ❀ One day your touch is featherlight Taunting The next it is a fist to the gut Brutal ❀ One moment you are
To the boy who Sits in front of me in English class I have not forgotten you ❀ To the boy who Used to turn around
To my Ex Best Friend, ❀ Last year you told me you’d never leave It was snowing inside and A wildfire was lapping at the doors
Dear Little Me, ❀ You used to throw concerts On the hill in your backyard With the falling sun as Your spotlights and The chirping birds as
Dear Happiness, You are a helium balloon And your string is fraying I knotted it around my wrist But that doesn’t matter if
To My First Love, ❀ What colour is the sky where you are? Is it the blood red of a murder scene? Or the lavender shade from the pot plant on my window sill?
To My Ghost, ❀ You used to be the blood Pumping through my veins like rivers Now, you are the ruby red substance Oozing from the jagged wounds on my skin
Dear Diary, I’m airborne again. I’m dreaming of flying and waking up as I hit the ground at his feet, staring at dusty shoes planted firmly on solid ground.
i. He is the quiet gentleness of dawn and the subtle restlessness of dusk. The combination of darkness and light that forms a golden glow.
A breath of fresh air Born from Friendship And teasing words ❀ Your lips turning upward Me thinking it reached your eyes
Our story was told through books. Not through the black arial font but the white spaces between. The faint finger prints on the cover. The cracks in the spine.
