Because anyone can poet, right?
I can in one breath Tiptoe to the flow of a Homeless man blowing on his axe. And on the exhale, Lie through my straight-edge
By Sarah Langthorne4 years ago in Poets
The world should be asleep, nearly dead by now. My mind lingers at the edge of a precipice, deciding whether to hurtle into space or continue chumming to-do lists.
Empty your cup and throw your first time out the window. I'm your new glass pillow Drool on my hallowed edges Search your fingers for my creases.
Hello, My first-sip-of-wine girl. Do you know what you are doing here? By the contents at home in the corner of your mouth,
Be careful, my child, This is how promises are made. In the depths between the inhale and the exhale, The future is forever altered.
When I was 18, I had a dream that I could control water. Yet I walked alone through the desert- the sand whipping my power from every pore.
