It starts with the birds- their songs becoming scarce, carried away with the bumbling winds. waves of wings cover the skys
By Trinity H2 months ago in Poets
There’s a crack in the window At my grandmothers house- Just over the sink, where you can see the Edge of the wild field. I’m staring eye
The words are etched in stone, My mouth is full of tar. What can I say to you that hasn’t already been said? Are you lonely?
The trail of gasoline, Retreating behind me as I Contemplate the blaze I will set. In a lack of remorse, or Perhaps
By Trinity H4 months ago in Poets
And when the sun hits the surface of the water- The surface of the stream- And when the light dances on the- why are you haunting me
a near miss a yellow light i watch from down the street as the bus pulls away the sale ended yesterday faulty service
By Trinity Habout a year ago in Poets
There is no poem of mine, not filled with pain. An accumulation of dirt in a grave, my words spell a cemetery. In death, death will show me
In the lamplight of my confusion, the shadows danced and sometimes screamed. I could do nothing but sit with my eyes closed and
Will it miss? The potential? In the spiral, will the appeal of the exit light my way? Is it your hand i’m seeing, reaching from the chaos?
which one was i? the allure of the rippling water, sunlight shining over and through, deep in its mystery and dread?
there is a monster inside me, let’s call it longing. it wears a heavy jacket that’s quite appalling. it scratches my windows, and
this is an ode to the love you gave me, to the heart i shared, to the trust i learned, and to the person who cared.
