S.W.

Joined January 2020

16 stories

Bio

A poet by way of life. Words just came easy to me, though I may never write a bestseller. I just want you to feel understood. At the end of my work if we’re closer than when you started reading I’ve done my part.

Stories (16)

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Forfeiture
In the spill of drool over my bottom lip Like a lilac canvas stretched over your bone. An animated canvas of flesh with grey eyes.
By S.W. 5 years ago in Poets
Asleep on the Couch
Ten feet maybe more from me, I could smell cigarette smoke. And their cherry’s burned like fireflies dancing in the dark. My parents sat and talked in quaint tones of secrecy.
By S.W. 5 years ago in Poets
The Artifice Heart
They want your soul And they want your heart They want to know How to tear you apart Break you down to a codex
By S.W. 6 years ago in Poets
Sickness
I’m sick inside. Not a cough or a wheeze. I can’t seem to understand it. Pestering and diseased. Some days are bright.
By S.W. 6 years ago in Poets
Bathing Suit
I turned the key, opened the door and tossed the keys in the trash. Half passed the hour, so I rolled up my cuffs and started a bath.
By S.W. 6 years ago in Poets
Tangerine Kisses
Her hair was light and thin, Her greatest features, more than skin. But one stood out strong to me- her lips were soft as lavender leaves,
By S.W. 6 years ago in Poets
The Wind Blows
Below the snow and between the frost. Lay dead leaves decaying; lost. To feed the soil, so it may bear fruit. For these mortal coil to follow suit.
By S.W. 6 years ago in Poets
Always
Find Me. You. Reader. You may always find me in something. In the faintest light in the darkest morning. In the single droplet on a leaf.
By S.W. 6 years ago in Poets
The Arsonist
His face of flame and ember coals. His veins glow through body and soul. Anger took what he couldn’t control. This burning man without a role.
By S.W. 6 years ago in Poets
The story in the Heart
There are stories in our hearts, things we really shouldn’t tell. Memories bought, we couldn’t think to sell. If we could trade, we surely would.
By S.W. 6 years ago in Poets
Business of the broken hearted.
We break and hurt. Destroy the hearts of ones we love. Nothing hurts more then that gentle shove. As I’ve been in this business of broken hearts.
By S.W. 6 years ago in Poets
Substances
Men in bars sipping away their malnourished minds, self-indulgent manic delirium, relax in the beloved low lit imperium. Carouse on cocktails, but never leaving doubt. Always there but never without.
By S.W. 6 years ago in Poets

S.W.

Bio

Stories .css-1svwz57-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-default-mute);}(16)

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Forfeiture

Asleep on the Couch

The Artifice Heart

Sickness

Bathing Suit

Tangerine Kisses

The Wind Blows

Always

The Arsonist

The story in the Heart

Business of the broken hearted.

Substances

Stories (16)