Knock knock
Who is that beating on my conscious trying to force their way in
Knocking on the door of my mental knowing what I am missing
Speaking through the walls that I built to protect my being
From mischief in the world that thrives on my heart no longer beating
You, entertain my space, look me in my face and then
Dissipate my skin, Swoop up my soul, let our essence blend
About the Creator
Viv C
Words have always been one of my things. I love them. I love to write about any and everything. I don’t like being in one genre, I like to write what I feel and hope that others feel it too.
Smart phones, Humans and Aliens.
WARNING. I will be tapping into one of your favorite creative tensions: The absurdity of humans worshipping their glowing rectangles as if they were tiny oracles. There’s something deliciously poetic about that contradiction, and it lends itself beautifully to an instructive proviso.
By Novel Allen4 days ago in Poets
Miss Persephone's Manual to a Seemingly Ordinary Life
Miss Persephone was found at the dining table, her blue eyes swollen, her tears arriving and retreating like the tides of the ocean. Earlier that day, her family had visited her in the retirement home where she had lived for eight years. It was her eightieth birthday.
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