Your eyes are pools, I
drown in with pleasure, your heart
the mountain that grows
About the Creator
Bugsy Watts
Got bit by the writing bug.
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More stories from Bugsy Watts and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Cost
There is always a cost. Not the dramatic kind people imagine, not the cinematic sacrifice that earns applause, but the quiet, relentless toll that transformation demands. The cost begins long before you rise and continues long after you land. It threads itself through every choice, every boundary, every refusal to return to the version of yourself that once made survival look effortless.
By Elisa Wontorcik5 days ago in Poets
Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts5 days ago in Longevity
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