I started it for her. A girl I'd never met, sixteen and scared in the dark winters of Alaska. The yarn was the pale yellow of new snow
By Autumn Stew3 months ago in Poets
To The One Who Moves My Blood, You are not a mere symbol. You are a calendar of bone and blood, a pulse that I learned before I took a breath.
To the one who always listens, You remember, don't you? The nights I spoke your name into salt and silence, hands open, heart trembling for something real.
I walk where the wild things hush, through nettled paths and bone-white birches, where frost clings like memory…so tightly,
By Cadma3 months ago in Poets
I love my children enough to never have them I look at the actions and words that hide in the dark The things people do to each other including kids themselves
She laughed at my way of speaking... my accent. He laughed, they laughed... I laughed too. I laughed, not because I was not from where they were from.
By Homayra Adiba3 months ago in Poets
Do they know the real face you keep hidden? Do they know the real you that lies beneath? How long will you let them watch you struggle?
By Gunnar Anderson3 months ago in Poets
Your masks might lie, but their forms and lines reveal the truth of the intentions behind. So I search beyond the plastic
By A. S. Lawrence3 months ago in Poets
Each word I write remakes my face— a thousand selves in shifting glass. The page becomes a mirrored place where every truth must learn to pass.
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales3 months ago in Poets
Air I am wind when no one’s watching, a whisper threading leaf to leaf. I learn to vanish in the breathing, to bend and break without belief.
I do not love you like I say I do, yet I smile and laugh along the way, because if the truth is revealed to you my heart would not last for another day.
By Lizzy Rose3 months ago in Poets
I would offer you tea except it would burn the tongue you needlessly lash my way when I'm sure sexy slumping slurping
By Cali Loria3 months ago in Poets
